Empire Reborn
by New Empireverse
Summary: A TIE pilot is framed for a crime which he did not commit, and goes on a quest to clear his name, discovering along the way that he is Force-sensitive, and that there is a great Imperial conspiracy afoot. Empire-centric, set after RotJ.
1. Prelude

**The Empire Reborn**

It is a dark time for the Empire.

Following the death of EMPEROR PALPATINE

and its defeat at the BATTLE OF ENDOR, the Empire has begun

to crumble and fight amongst itself. The remaining faction, known as the IMPERIAL REMNANT, has fled to the Outer Rim to regroup and regain the power to crush the NEW REPUBLIC once and for all. A valuable store of cortosis has been found on the oceanic world of BAL'DEMNIC, and a promising young officer, ERRIL KAVEN, has been sent to oversee the mining operation, unaware that the Remnant's presence there has been discovered...

* * *

_Bal'demnic. An oceanic planet in the Bak'rofsen system of the Auril sector. Outer Rim._

_11 A.B.Y._

The commander stepped into the elevator and the doors hissed closed behind him. The car began to move upward.

So far the mining operation had been running smoothly despite the locals and the nuisance presented by the mine crabs. The crabs were hardly more than pests to the personnel assigned to the operation, but several incidents with the Kon'me, the noisome aliens native to the tropical planet, had slowed their progress. Mining equipment had been destroyed, hydraulic jacks had turned up missing and, whether it was the Kon'me's fault or not, new nests of mine crabs had been found in a few strategic areas.

The incidents had stopped after a group of high-ranking Kon'me had been taken captive to serve as sabotage insurance. Now the aliens were avoiding all hostilities, and had switched to simply being as derisive as they could without inciting all-out battle with the Empire. The blockade orbiting the planet served as a reminder to avoid harassing the operation.

The commander smiled thinly. An undeniable show of force sufficed to keep the system in line.

The look was lost at once as the elevator ground to a halt with a screeching wail. Aware that he was several floors from his destination still, the officer opened his comlink and contacted the maintenance station.

"This is Commander Gonner," he said. "Elevator 12 has gone offline again. Send a repair crew imme-"

He was cut off as the elevator gave a shudder. There was a quiet, ominous creak.

He lifted the communicator again. "_Immediately,_" he snapped.

"_Right away, sir_," came the reply.

The elevator shuddered again and began to fall, but came to a halt after several metres.

"And hurry _up,_" he hissed.

There was another ominous creak, and then a worse sound: the sound of the repulsorlift cutting off. A cold hand seized Gonner's heart in the terrible silence that came after.

The elevator plunged twelve floors. It hit the bottom and the officer died.

Quite suddenly.

* * *

Several floors above where the elevator had stopped and then fallen, a Stormtrooper stood with the doors propped open, gazing down the shaft. At the horrific crashing noise that floated upward as the car struck bottom, the trooper stepped back and let the doors close again.

Checking to see that he was completely alone, the man removed his helmet and drew a device from a hidden compartment in his belt. He activated it. Even at this distance the transmitter would take his message directly to the temporary base the New Republic had set up.

"Consider the operation delayed," he said. "They'll have to find a new commander now."

* * *

"We are now entering the planet's atmosphere," the Stormtrooper said. "Our estimated arrival time at the facility is in twenty-three minutes and twelve seconds."

The officer he had addressed rose and went to the doorway of the cockpit, gazing out of the viewport at the planet's surface, which was growing closer with each moment. The planet was primarily ocean, dotted with tropical islands and archipelagos. As the shuttle flew downwards, dwellings built on and into the cliff sides became visible.

"Beautiful," said Erril Kaven, the newly-appointed commander of the Bal'demnic operation, with a smile. "I think I'm going to enjoy this assignment."

"I can see why, sir."

The mining facility, built among some high cliffs overlooking the ocean, came into view. There were three figures standing by the landing platform, waiting for their arrival. The ship touched down.

Kaven discreetly checked the time. Their arrival was spot-on. "Punctual as always," he said to the Stormtrooper on his left, as they disembarked from the landing craft.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

The three officers that had been standing by the platform came closer as the small group approached. Lieutenant Bryn Shar eyed the commander as he came to them, noting that he hadn't changed much since their days at the academy on Corulag.

They stopped, and Bryn and Kaven regarded each other silently. It had been six years since they had met.

Kaven was in his mid twenties, with dark brown hair and light green eyes. His features were regular and conventionally attractive- handsome in an unaffected sort of way. Lieutenant Shar was the same age, slim, and with dark eyes. Her brown hair would have reached her shoulders if she had worn it loose instead of in a coiled bun. Both were straight-backed and neat-model officers of the Imperial Navy.

"Ah, Bryn Shar," he said. He smiled at her. "Still a lieutenant."

"Not all of us climb the ranks as quickly as you, Erril," said Lieutenant Shar, stiffly. _So it's beginning already, is it? _she thought.

The two officers had never gotten along, not during their days at the academy, and not during flight school. The latter, especially. Bryn would have been the top student in her class if it hadn't been for Kaven; no matter how well she flew, or what she achieved during a mission, he had always been one step ahead. Glory was something she had always hated to share, and they had quickly become rivals.

And now, seeing him as a commander, no matter how temporary, made something in her blood boil. She wondered what the admiral was thinking to have appointed Kaven in Gonner's stead.

She swept a hand in the direction of the building looming overhead. "Let us take you to the mining facility."

"Of course."

There was a delicate cough from behind them, and the lieutenant straightened. She had been distracted by her rival and had nearly forgotten about the two men accompanying her.

"This is Second Lieutenant Shaada, and Second Lieutenant Kai. Lieutenant Shaada will be your aide during your time here," she added, indicating the pair of officers.

They stood at attention. Lieutenant Shaada was fair-haired and bland-faced, fresh out of the academy, while Lieutenant Kai was tall and more heavily built, with dark hair and a nose that had been broken a few times in the past.

"I see," said Kaven.

"Let us show you the facility, then, Commander," said Bryn. With the woman leading, the group walked into the building.

* * *

The commander listened to the officers' explanations of the situation and procedures as he was taken around the facility. Lieutenant Kai had left with the Stormtroopers that had accompanied Kaven, and the young man was left with Bryn and Lieutenant Shaada.

"The hydraulic jacks can quickly become clogged with dust from the cortosis mining, in addition to the heads being worn out," Shaada was saying. "Commander Gonner had two hours' time set aside for maintenance every day, which keeps the jacks from breaking down, but the heads still need replacing every so often."

He indicated the elevator on his right. "Sir?"

"By all means, show me the mine itself," Kaven said. "I ought to know it well, if I'm to command this operation."

Lieutenant Shar turned to them as the blonde officer opened the elevator doors. "Now that you've familiarized yourself with the facility, it's time for me to return to the blockade."

Kaven nodded to her, knowing that she was, like him, more comfortable aboard a Star Destroyer. He had refrained from questioning his orders, but on the voyage to Bal'demnic he had often wondered why _he _had been chosen to head a mining operation, when his place was in the cockpit of his TIE Defender. He was a pilot, not part of the army.

He and Shaada stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed on Lieutenant Shar's retreating back. As they descended, the young lieutenant cleared his throat. "I assume you've read the files regarding the mine crabs," he said.

"'Leathery-skinned and approximately twenty centimetres in length with six bladed forelimbs; average colouration is a dark green on the back with a pale yellow underside'," Kaven replied, quoting from the documents he had been given. "Also a bit of a nuisance, from what I've heard."

"That would be them, sir." The lieutenant touched the handle of the blaster pistol at his hip, noting that Kaven was similarly armed. "The troopers posted in the mines have their orders to shoot them on sight, but we could still run into some in the tunnels."

"I'll keep an eye out for them, then," the commander said. The elevator doors slid open and the two officers walked into the cortosis mine. Fusion lanterns had been strung along the walls at ten-metre intervals, and the two men cast inky black shadows on the opposite wall as they walked.

After a while both paused at a furtive scrabbling noise from somewhere in the rock.

Lieutenant Shaada's pistol appeared in his hand. He drew a comlink from his breast pocket and spoke into it. "Sergeant Oster, this is Lieutenant Shaada. Have your men conduct another sweep of the tunnels on the entrance level."

"_I'll get right on it, sir_," a man's gravelly voice replied.

The blonde officer slipped the comlink back into his pocket, then listened. There were no further sounds, and he and Kaven continued on. After a few twists and turns of the corridor they were met by a group of four Stormtroopers, evidently part of Sergeant Oster's group.

"Have you anything to report, trooper?" the lieutenant asked, as they drew abreast of the troopers.

"No, sir. Nothing."

"Carry on, then."

The officers passed by, and the troopers continued on their sweep of the mines. There were no more of the little scrabbling sounds in the rock as Kaven and Shaada moved through the tunnels, and there was nothing unusual to be seen as the lieutenant took the commander through the processing and refining facilities.

When at last they had finished, Kaven went back to his quarters. After the door had slid shut behind him, he sighed.

Until the reserves of cortosis the imperial scouts had discovered had been removed from the area, he would be separated from his ship and his squadron. Kaven was not thrilled with the assignment, and wondered why in the cosmos it had been given to _him, _of all people, but another part was intrigued as to why he had been sent to Bal'demnic in lieu of an army officer. After Commander Gonner's death, Admiral Makar had chosen Erril Kaven, a TIE pilot, to take command of a cortosis mining operation. Why? He was on good terms with the man-or at the very least, he had never had the occasion to make the admiral angry, so he doubted that it was an assignment given out of spite. Makar had always been pleased with his talent as a pilot.

Kaven took his cap off and ran a hand through his dark hair. Perhaps there was something special about the operation, he mused. It looked like an ordinary mine to him, though. Cortosis was always important, but overseeing a mining project was for the army. His assignments usually involved rebels, smugglers, and pirates, and he had once seen something in an asteroid field that had nearly put a grey streak in his hair, but here there were Kon'me, mine crabs, and malfunctioning equipment. Scary.

Or not.

_Well, I'm sure I'll find out why I'm here eventually, _he thought, smiling a little. _In the meantime, Erril, take it like a vacation-you might be able to steal some time on the beach while you're here._

The young officer set his questions aside for the time being, and prepared to settle in for what he hoped was going to be a short assignment.

* * *

An image formed on the great screen, that of a human man wearing Stormtrooper armour, holding his helmet in his hands. He had tan skin and curly black hair, and behind him stood an aged Kon'me in blue robes.

"They've gotten a new commander already, sir," the false Stormtrooper said. "He arrived today."

"That was too quick," said the rebel officer he had contacted. "What have you found out, Pavel?"

Pavel scratched his chin. "I haven't heard where they're shipping the cortosis to, just that they're handing it over to some other faction of the Remnant. About Commander Kaven, though; well, he's from the navy, not the army. He's a TIE pilot, a flight officer, but nobody's mentioned why he got sent here instead of an army officer." The spy grinned and held up a small recording device. "This helmet came in handy again today-I got some footage of him for you. Here."

He leaned down, and for a moment there was the quiet, scurrying clack of keys as he typed. Once the record had been transferred, the officer opened it immediately.

The clip showed two officers walking past Pavel's post. As they passed by, the one in the black uniform turned his head to glance at the Stormtrooper, and the rebel officer paused it at that moment, for it offered a clear shot of Commander Kaven's face. The imperial officer was a handsome man, with green eyes and a cocky arch to his features that spoke of either arrogance or cheekiness or both. In actuality the officer had expected that of Erril Kaven.

"So that's what he looks like," Captain Rask remarked. "Hum. He's young-that figures."

"You know him, then?"

The older man nodded. "He's gotten something of a reputation, especially after the Battle of Salamand. He's just as nuts as the next TIE pilot, but lucky, and good at what he does," he said. "If you can find out why he's here and not out in space somewhere, do that. This situation is getting more and more suspicious."

"Maybe he ticked off his admiral," Pavel suggested. "He does look fairly snarky, after all. And this assignment's probably not too glamorous to him."

"I hope that turns out to be it."

The robed Kon'me standing behind Pavel suddenly spoke up. "It's getting late. The Imperials will wonder where you have gone."

The false Stormtrooper straightened. "That's right," he said. "I doubt anybody's going to believe I went skipping rocks in the dark."

"And of the commander..."

Pavel flashed a smile. "Don't worry, Captain. I'll make it rough on him."

"Be careful-when I said Kaven was lucky, I meant it. May the Force be with you."

"And with you. I'll do what I can, sir."

* * *

Kaven's eyes opened.

The room, shadowed with the blue and black of the very early morning, was still the same. The officer sat up regardless, feeling like something were amiss, and let his eyes adjust to the gloom.

He heard something that was like a quiet crunch, coming from somewhere in the room. He pulled his knees up and moved closer to the headboard, looking around for the source of the noise. Another soft crunching noise came, sounding like it was coming from the air vent on the wall adjacent to the bed.

The officer slipped out of bed and went onto his hands and knees. He leaned down to look at the grate behind the desk, his cheek nearly touching the floor. There was a dark form wriggling out of a hole it had apparently gnawed in the grate's covering. It hit the floor and hissed at him, opening its fanged mouth very wide.

"I thought so," Kaven said, reaching for the blaster he had left on the desk. The mine crab scuttled forward and snapped at him. The officer pulled his hand away and moved back to avoid being bitten, but the aggressive creature came forward again, going for the human's legs. Kaven pulled them out of reach, and the mine crab snapped at his wrist. On reflex the officer backhanded it. It hit the far wall and shot underneath the bed, where he heard another set of teeth clacking.

"Great. How many of you got in here?" he muttered, more exasperated than startled.

* * *

The room Commander Kaven occupied was en route to Lieutenant Shaada's. On his way back to his own quarters the blonde officer heard a surprised yell from the commander, then a quiet thump. Raising his eyebrows, Shaada went to the door.

"Gotcha!" Kaven exclaimed, from inside.

"Commander?" the officer asked. "What's going on in there?"

"Come in, Lieutenant," came the reply. "I can't get to the door right now."

Mystified by now, Lieutenant Shaada opened the door. Kaven was standing inside, in his shorts, with one foot planted hard on a mine crab that was trying to bite his heel. He held another in his hands, and appeared to be strangling it.

The blonde man merely stood in the doorway, looking at the unexpected, strangely comical scene and wondering how he ought to react. "-Oh," he said, lamely.

Kaven shifted his grip on the struggling mine crab. "Hand me my blaster, will you?" he asked, holding his free hand out. His aide went to the desk and took the weapon, handing it over, and watched as the commander shot both of the hissing creatures.

Shaada bent over, and saw the hole in the covering of the ventilation shaft behind the desk.

"They're smaller than I expected," Kaven said, dropping the body.

"They must have hatched further down the shaft," the lieutenant replied, straightening. "Your ankle is bleeding, sir," he added dutifully, as an afterthought.

"I doubt I'll expire between now and a bandage," the commander said dryly, "But since I'd rather not wake up to any more mine crab attacks in the night, I want those ventilation shafts checked thoroughly by morning. _All _of them."

Lieutenant Shaada straightened, privately glad that it was someone else's quarters that had been invaded and not his own. "Yes, sir."

Kaven dismissed him, and the aide walked out, leaving the commander to bandage his ankle in peace, blaster pistol lying within easy reach at his side.

* * *

There were three clutches of eggs found in the shafts by morning, with seven unhatched eggs in total. Four of them had been on the verge of hatching in the warm air drafts, a fact which made Kaven glad to have ordered all of the shafts checked. If the eggs had been left undiscovered, both the Stormtroopers and the other officers would have had some unpleasant surprises in the future.

With what enthusiasm he could muster Kaven set about his duties, with the intention of keeping the operation running as smoothly as possible.

...It was easier said than done, the officer found, a few weeks later, between the equipment malfunctions and mine crabs alone. Of the crabs he wasn't sure, but with more than a little suspicion he had posted guards to keep watch over the equipment. Now that the Stormtroopers were keeping an eye on the machinery, there were a few less incidents of breakage. Kaven had supposed that the Kon'me miners had been responsible for the damages, but the troopers had not reported them acting up at all. From what Lieutenant Shaada had said, Commander Gonner had put the fear of the Empire into them.

There were some rumours of ghosts wandering the mine shafts, but the commander did not believe in that sort of thing and paid it little mind. Ghosts, after all, did not break equipment.

* * *

The two mine crabs hissed at them, opening their fanged mouths wide.

Kaven and Shaada shot them both, and they dropped from view. "There must be more nests that we haven't found," the blonde officer said with some frustration, "Or a...colony, somewhere."

"The recon droids have found two nests," Kaven replied. "They can find more."

The two officers continued along the catwalk, moving to where a lift would take them to the lower levels. Kaven eyed the lift with some mistrust. It looked as sturdy as any other, but for some reason he had a bad feeling about it. He came to a halt.

His aide stopped as well. "Commander?"

"Just a moment, Lieutenant," Kaven said. "I don't think this one's safe, either."

He went to the edge of the catwalk and planted one foot on the platform, then pushed down. The platform didn't move.

"It's never shown any sign of that in the past," the lieutenant said. He watched as Kaven backed away from it. "Surely you're not going to-"

The officer bounded forward, landing on the platform briefly before jumping onto the other side of the walkway.

"Can nothing here be trusted?" the commander asked, as the lift collapsed. The platform crashed to the floor twenty metres below. Kaven regarded Lieutenant Shaada's expression with some amusement. "But after a few weeks here, I've come to expect this sort of thing. How do the rest of you survive?"

"It's never happened to _me,_" the lieutenant replied. "Commander, _you're _the one finding all the malfunctioning machinery-firsthand!"

Kaven put his hands on his hips and gave his aide an arch smile. "Setting traps, Lieutenant?"

Shaada was horrified. "Of course not! I would never do such a thing!" His ruffled feathers smoothed when he realized that Kaven was only having him on. "They are like traps," he admitted. "Perhaps it's only coincidence that you're running into them, but maybe not. I will look into this matter further, Commander."

"You do that," Kaven said, taking some obscure delight in how easily he could disorient the young officer. Surely Shaada had expected someone more aloof; maybe they all had. Either way, the captain was amused at the mild ruckus he had created among the army officers, who were alight with consternation at having a pilot as their commander. He suspected someone wanted to replace him, and quickly.

"Lieutenant," he asked, "Was the reason for my presence here mentioned in any reports?"

"No, sir. The high command has kept that information confidential. I am unaware of why a pilot would be sent to oversee the operation."

"It is strange," Kaven admitted. "_Very _strange that I would be sent to oversee a mining operation when my skills as a pilot would be more useful elsewhere, even if it is cortosis."

Between the number of "accidents" and strategic dangers around the facility, he was beginning to suspect that he had been chosen for his tendency to survive difficult missions, rather than his tidy record. Twice already his intuitions had saved him from serious injury, if not death.

Over the years he had learned to trust his premonitions completely; they had saved his own life and the lives of his wing mates several times over. Even if it meant disobeying an order, an act which had once gotten him busted back down to lieutenant, he obeyed the little voice inside him that noticed the things that he sometimes did not.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he glanced at his aide. "There was only one commander before me, wasn't there?"

Lieutenant Shaada looked uncomfortable. "No, sir. There were two. Commander Taal had been the first, and he had been killed in the mines a standard month after the operation started."

"Now how was _he _killed?"

"Mine crabs, sir, in the lower levels. There had been a...colony there. The Stormtroopers with him had been killed as well-after they were discovered, the colony was fired and a Viper droid was sent to conduct bioscans on the area afterward. The lower levels have remained free of activity since then."

"Charming."

The doors behind Lieutenant Shaada slid open and two troopers ran in, blasters in hand. They surveyed the missing lift and the two officers. Kaven crossed his arms and merely raised an eyebrow at the pair.

"Uh, is everything all right here?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Just another close call," Kaven said, looking directly at the one peering down at the wreckage below. "Business as usual, I dare say. Call a repair crew, trooper-and have all of the lifts checked."

"Yes, sir."

As the Stormtroopers left, the commander nodded to his aide. Lieutenant Shaada took a few steps back, then took two running steps and leapt across to the other catwalk. They continued on.

* * *

"Captain Rask," Pavel said in greeting, once the officer's image came up, and saluted. He stood as before in the elderly Kon'me contact's house, which overlooked the ocean.

"Your mission is proceeding without trouble?" the captain asked.

"Yes, sir," the false Stormtrooper replied. "There's no suspicions on me, so I can still go around as freely as anyone else. You were right about the commander's luck, though, sir, and I think he might do a security sweep of the personnel soon." He glanced at the rebel sympathiser for a moment, then continued, "If I didn't already know how much trouble it would cause, I would think it'd just be easier to shoot him in the back."

The older man shook his head. "That's far too risky."

"Yes, sir. But what about the plans? The Remnant's almost got this vein of cortosis finished, and even at the rate they're going now, they'll have it all out within a few standard months," Pavel replied. "I can only slow the operation so much."

"Our troops are preparing to liberate the planet," the officer answered. "They will have the assistance of a Jedi Knight in this venture."

Pavel smiled brightly. Despite the re-emergence of the Jedi order, there were still very few of the mysterious Force-wielders, and the young soldier had never encountered one before.

"On behalf of Bal'demnic, I thank you for your assistance," the Kon'me said, stepping forward. "Though our leaders may remain politically neutral, in the future this may count towards a consideration of joining the New Republic."

Pavel turned to her. "When the troops arrive, will the Kon'me help drive the Remnant out?"

The alien shook her head regretfully. "While our leaders are being held captive, we dare not raise a hand to the Empire."

"The captives will be rescued when the Jedi comes," Captain Rask said. "Until then, Pavel, just keep a low profile. Do _not _make any direct attempts on Commander Kaven's life, not even when an opportunity presents itself."

"Yes, sir," Pavel said.

"May the Force be with you, Pavel."

"And with you, sir."

* * *

Lieutenant Kai looked up from his computer as the officer walked by. "Commander Kaven?" he said. "We've received a transmission from the blockade, sir."

Kaven turned to him. In the time he had spent on the tropical planet he had acquired a light tan, and like everyone else, a faint smell of ocean spray accompanied him everywhere he went. "Relay it," he said.

"There's a very large storm on its way, sir, and it will hit this location an estimated fifteen days and twelve hours from now," the older man said. "It is likely that we will temporarily lose contact with the blockade." He turned a little in his chair, so that he faced the young officer directly. "This one is somewhat larger than the last. Our communications may be disrupted for the duration of the storm."

"Estimated as...?"

"Approximately forty-eight hours, sir."

"I see," Kaven said. He made a mental note to see that the lower levels were sealed tightly ahead of time. During the last large storm one of the bulkheads had buckled under the pressure of the water, and that room and the next had been flooded nearly to the catwalks.

That had not been the part that had strained Kaven's temper, not really. It had been the fact that the water had been crawling with eels that had gotten to him. Long, serpentine, slimy eels with grinning toothy maws, speckled and numerous. They lived in the rocky shallows close to the cliffsides, and had come surging in when the bulkhead broke.

Kaven could think of nothing more repulsive. To the pilot, even mynocks were cute and appealing next to them. He would not admit to having an eel phobia, not even to himself, but he would have nothing to do with the creatures. At least they rarely came up in his line of work. He would have said never, but his current assignment had made that a lie.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" Lieutenant Kai asked.

The commander shook his head. "No. But have the bulkheads in the lower levels checked in time for the storm. I don't want a repeat of last time."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

When the storm did come, it hit the facility hard. As Lieutenant Kai had predicted, the communications with the blockade were lost.

As the storm raged outside Pavel Ultrand crouched in one corner of Bay Twelve, hidden from view by a stack of crates. In one hand he held a flat black device that looked like a remote of some kind, and in the other he held a holoprojector.

Using the storm as cover was the best opportunity they had been afforded since he had been sent to Bal'demnic to keep an eye on the operation, but it also brought new risks with it, especially for the pilots flying through it.

A small holographic image formed. It was undoubtedly the Jedi Knight Captain Rask had mentioned weeks before, and Pavel smiled at the sight. She was a young-looking Togruta, although Pavel was unsure of whether her species aged in the same way as humans. She was dressed in loose brown robes, and her hands were tucked away in her sleeves.

"We've entered the atmosphere," said Midea Locke, her image crackling badly. "I take it you've set the charges?"

"Naturally," Pavel replied.

"Good. I think now's the time to set them off."

* * *

At the sound of the first explosion Kaven leapt to his feet. When another came, he grabbed his comlink. "What's going on out there?" he demanded. Another explosion rocked the facility.

"Someone has set explosives in Bay Three-"

The door suddenly hissed open, revealing Lieutenant Shaada. "Commander, we are under attack! Republic troops have gotten past the blockade and are attempting to enter the facility through Bay Twelve," his aide reported.

Kaven's eyes narrowed. "They will _not _escape."

* * *

The landing craft swung down into the hangar, wet with rain and dotted with laser blasts. The gangplank lowered and a figure in a black uniform hurried down it, followed by a platoon of Stormtroopers.

Lieutenant Shar drew her blaster pistol, looking around them through narrowed eyes. She motioned to the first squad. "You, go to the mines and secure them. The rest of you, follow me," she ordered. The first group ran out.

The storm outside had made it difficult to see, but the flight officer had seen the smoke rising from Bay Three as they had swept in. She had suppressed a smile at the sight. Erril was surely not smiling at this moment as the rebels invaded his operation, reminding him of where his place was.

As much malicious pleasure as it would have given her to see his stint as commander end in failure, she had been sent by Admiral Makar to aid Kaven for the time being. The rebels had to be taken care of first.

The troopers fell into step behind her as they hurried out of the hangar.

* * *

Bay Twelve was alive with screams and blaster fire.

From where he was crouched behind a makeshift barrier Kaven shot, then drew back in time to avoid a hail of fire. A few metres away a Stormtrooper fell, knocked off his feet by the impact of a blaster shot.

At his side Shaada was taking what shots he could, using the crates they had dived behind as cover. He leaned out for a split second and fired, and a Republic soldier fell.

All of a sudden Kaven felt something like a warning tremor. "Come with me! Now!" he ordered, and the two officers started away, sprinting for the next blockade. Behind them a metallic clinking noise sounded as a grenade landed behind the crates. More motivated than ever to make haste, the pair put on an extra burst of speed and dove for cover as the grenade exploded. A wave of heat washed over them.

"Luck of pilots," the lieutenant muttered, rubbing his temple. He had lost his cap in the mad sprint for the blockade, and now his blonde hair fell over his brow in disarray.

"There's something else here," Kaven said, looking around warily. Around them more Stormtroopers were running in and the Republic soldiers had gathered around the imperial landing craft they had swept in on, using it as cover. The hangar was coming back under control, but the commander had the feeling that something else was with them.

Suddenly there was a crash from their right, near the wall. He turned his head in time to see a figure in a long brown robe sprint from behind the shuttle, moving faster than he had ever seen anyone run before. There was a lightsaber in her hand.

"A Jedi!" Lieutenant Shaada exclaimed.

The Jedi disappeared into the ventilation shaft whose grating she had just somehow shattered, crouching.

_The mines! _Kaven realized, with a sinking feeling.

Without thinking he ran after her, ducking into the shaft amid another hail of blaster bolts from the rebel troops. Moving as quickly as he could on hands and knees he followed after the woman, part of him wondering what the hell he was doing.

* * *

Midea Locke moved quickly through the ventilation shaft, the metal feeling warm under her bare feet. The Togruta was aware that someone was following her; she could feel their presence in the Force.

Recalling the base blueprints that the spies sent to Bal'demnic had recovered, the Jedi moved down each shaft as she came to it, selecting those that would take her to the mines.

As she moved, she heard a skittering sound. Feeling rather than seeing something coming her way in the gloom, the Jedi ignited her lightsaber. In the gold light she caught sight of a nasty-looking little creature running toward her on bladelike limbs. Its three eyes were blinking rapidly in the sudden bright light.

With a small sideways slash she dispatched it, then noticed two more small shapes coming.

_Hmm, _she thought.

* * *

Although he was not sure how, Kaven felt the Jedi's presence as he crawled through the shafts. He followed it, counting on his intuitions not to lose the woman in the labyrinth of vents.

His hand flew to the handle of his blaster pistol when he saw six dark shapes lying in the tunnel, but he relaxed when he saw that the trio of mine crabs were quite dead, and that they had been chopped in half. Despite himself he smiled approvingly as he passed.

As he went by it, he glanced out of one of the grates at the tumult going on in Bay Six, and was surprised to see Bryn Shar among the facility's officers and troopers as they engaged the rebels. Not stopping to watch, he moved on, intent on catching the Jedi before she could blow up the mines.

* * *

Bracing her foot against the grate, Locke shoved it outward. It fell with a loud clatter, and the pair of Stormtroopers looked up. The orange-skinned alien dropped between them. Before either trooper could fire his blaster, she used the Force to throw them hard against the wall of the tunnel. They fell into a heap, out cold but still alive. The Togruta disliked killing sentient beings.

She padded to the door, which was locked, and entered the code she had been given on the number pad. The door slid open.

Once it had closed again, another figure emerged from the ventilation shafts over the tunnel, a human man in a now-dusty black uniform. He landed on both feet and dusted himself off without thinking about it.

Kaven glanced at the unconscious Stormtroopers as he passed by. With the feeling that the Jedi was close by, he drew his blaster pistol and entered the mines.

* * *

Feeling a warning in the Force, the Jedi leapt into a patch of shadow as the door opened, using the Force to cloak herself further. She waited silently.

A man came in. It was an officer with dark hair, straight-backed and archly handsome. He looked at the tunnel with some puzzlement as he came in, the blaster pistol he held levelled before him.

"I feel you," he said softly.

From where she stood, Locke's brow raised. The Jedi had noticed that his presence was somewhat stronger than an ordinary being's, and realized now that the man was Force-sensitive.

For a moment she wondered if he weren't one of the Reborn faction, but his presence in the Force was not such a dark one.

"I _feel _you, Jedi," said the man, who was surely Erril Kaven. "I don't know how, but I know you're there..."

The Togruta didn't answer.

"I want to know how you are doing this," he continued, coming closer. He was looking directly at where she was hidden, though she knew that he couldn't see her. He could only sense her.

Kaven took another step forward, his green eyes focused on where she stood. "Show yourself," he said quietly.

Locke hid her presence in the Force.

To the human it seemed as though the Jedi had simply disappeared. A look of shock came over his face and he stopped. He looked around himself, frowning and trying to sense where she had gone.

Taking advantage of his momentary confusion, she slipped past him.

Kaven's eyes closed as he felt a breeze pass by him, carrying with it a faint perfume scent.

Turning, he ran after her.

* * *

"Lieutenant Shaada," a woman's voice called, once the last of the rebel soldiers were down.

The officer turned at the sound, and saw Bryn Shar walking toward him. There was a neat burn-streak on the upper left arm of her uniform, made by a blaster bolt, and he could see the angry red line of a fresh scar on her skin. Otherwise the lieutenant was untouched.

The young man saluted. "Where is Kaven?" Bryn asked, looking around. There was no sign that the TIE pilot had been killed in the firefight.

"He went into the vents after the Jedi, sir-ma'am. Presumably to the mines," Shaada answered.

The woman was taken aback. "What? What is he thinking?" she demanded. Before the blonde man could answer, the pilot continued, "Take the prisoners to the detention. I will see to the mines myself."

Each flanked by a quartet of Stormtroopers, the officers separated.

* * *

Not trusting the platform down to the processing area to hold his weight, Kaven simply leapt over it as he ran. Catching sight of the now-visible Jedi before him, he lifted his blaster and fired. Reacting with supernatural speed the Togruta turned, igniting her lightsaber, and deflected each of the bolts. One of them whizzed past the commander while the others veered away, the officer apparently too far away to hit accurately. Kaven pressed on.

Suddenly a warning flashed in his mind, and he let out a surprised yell as his feet shot out sideways beneath him as if yanked. He fell onto his side, and nearly off of the catwalk. His fingers gripped hard at the edge of the walk, and for a moment his feet swung freely over the floor thirty metres below, where rivers of red-hot ore were being processed. The Jedi padded away, robes flying behind her, as the officer pulled himself back up and retrieved his blaster.

There was a feeling rising in him that reminded him of how it was to be in the middle of a dogfight, that certain awareness that he attained as he hit that peak moment in his Defender, when he and everything around him merged.

If the Jedi wished to blow up the mines, she would have to make her way to the main console, which was located below them, past the processing facility and well into the mines. The doors below were coded, but it seemed the codes had been leaked to her already. They were not obstacles to either of them.

The Togruta was taking the conventional route. Kaven knew a shortcut.

Instead of entering the corridor at the end of the catwalk, the officer jumped off on the right side, grabbing a chain and riding it down. The metal was hot against his cheek as he went, and he could feel the heat through his gloves.

He could not sense the Jedi; she was still hiding her presence somehow. However, Kaven knew that if he hurried, he could get to the console before her and make sure the operation was safe.

Improvised plans beginning to form already, the commander slipped out of the processing facility and began to make his way to where the mining supplies were safely kept.

* * *

Leaving the half dozen Stormtroopers riddled with their own blaster bolts behind her, Locke veered down the right passage, to where the main computer lay. She felt the commander's presence nearby, and held her lightsaber before her as she approached the doorway.

Suddenly she felt a warning in the Force and leapt back as a series of detonation packs fixed just inside the room went off. The explosions were sufficient to collapse the doorway, blocking it with rubble.

Once the last stones had fallen, the Jedi came forward again. She looked down the branching corridor to where Kaven was approaching at a slow walk. He halted just outside of the range at which she could reliably hit him if he fired his blaster, standing near an open container of unrefined cortosis ore.

"There's nowhere to run, and it's too high to jump," Kaven said. He held up a hand placatingly, with the other still holding the blaster pistol levelled at her. "Put your lightsaber on the floor and push it towards me, and I promise that you will not be harmed."

_At least until the interrogations, _he added privately, but made no mention of the thought.

The Jedi didn't move. They stared at each other. "I don't trust you," she said.

"Can't we talk about this?" the commander asked, with a disarming smile. "I am a civilized man, after all. And there are a few things I would like to know."

The Jedi's lightsaber remained in a ready position. "What's the Remnant doing with the cortosis?" she demanded.

The smile faded. "You're not in a position to ask questions, Jedi," Kaven said. "Who informed you of this operation?" The Togruta didn't answer. Kaven frowned. "I'll have the information out of you eventually. It would be better for you to tell me now," the officer told her.

The alien's grip on her weapon tightened. For some reason she seemed wary of Kaven, an observation that the young officer intended to use to his advantage.

There was a tense silence. "Are you one of the Reborn?" she asked.

"One of the...?" The officer blinked, and shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about." His momentary hesitation vanished and he pointed the blaster at her. "Enough of these games. Give up, Rebel."

The Jedi shook her head slowly and began to advance, her lightsaber levelled to deflect any shots he might take.

* * *

"No, sir. I don't know whether Kaven made it into the mines or not," Pavel said. "I overheard that he was last seen going into the vents after Locke, but-_ugh!_"

Something hard connected with his temple, knocking him over sideways, and he hit the floor in a clatter of white armour. The holoprojector fell out of his hand, the ghostly holograph of Captain Rask disappearing as it hit the floor and rolled away.

A pair of white feet strode around him and stopped. When he looked up, the spy saw an E-11 blaster rifle pointed directly at him. The Stormtrooper must have used it to hit him. He could see more forms in white surrounding him.

"On your feet, 'trooper'," said a woman's voice.

The Stormtroopers around him followed his movements with their guns as he climbed slowly to his feet and turned to face the speaker. Lieutenant Shar was standing just inside the doors of the room in which he had been contacting the captain, blaster in hand.

_Stars' end, _he thought.

"Well-a rebel spy. Put your hands on your head, where I can see them." The lieutenant gestured with her pistol.

Wondering if it wouldn't be better to be shot instead of interrogated, Pavel placed both hands on the back of his head and surrendered.

* * *

Kaven saw it coming.

He saw the leap forward, the angle of the blade before it swept down. It was crystal-clear and exact, and the officer acted without thought.

Ducking down, the commander snatched up a large chunk of cortosis as the Jedi swung the lightsaber, using it as a shield. The pure, unrefined metal would have burned his bare skin on contact, but Kaven's hands were protected by his leather gloves.

The energy blade struck the cortosis and shorted out.

The Jedi pulled in a breath of surprise. Before a second could pass Kaven raised his blaster. Before the Togruta had time to step back, the officer fired.

There was a moment of silence, and then the Jedi fell. Her lightsaber clattered to the stone floor beside her.

_I've killed a Jedi, _the young officer thought in mute shock.

He had heard of how supernatural the Jedi Knights were, with their magical powers, and how they had always sounded unbeatable. But they weren't. He knew that now.

He knelt beside her, no longer able to feel her presence. She was, without a doubt, dead.

Kaven had hated the Alliance ever since they had destroyed the Death Star at the Battle of Yavin, and had never felt much remorse in killing a rebel soldier. He was surprised to find that he was sorry to have killed this one.

He felt a twinge, and looked over his shoulder. A group of Stormtroopers were approaching. Some of them were looking around warily, watching out for the mine crabs that lurked in the tunnels.

"Commander Kaven," the lead trooper said. "The Jedi, is she...?"

"Yes," the officer said, glancing back to where the Togruta lay still. "A pity. She could have provided some useful information. What about the other rebels?"

"Three have been captured," the Stormtrooper replied promptly. "The others are dead."

The officer stood up. On impulse he bent and retrieved the lightsaber, looking at it as he straightened.

It was the first one he had ever seen in real life, the first he had ever held. It was decidedly elegant, with a slim handle, and he found himself regarding it curiously, wondering what it was like to wield one.

He fastened it at his belt. He could examine it in more detail later, but for now there was work to be done.

* * *

The rebels had been pushed into a retreat. The three that had been captured, including the spy, were awaiting interrogation, and the operation could continue.

Kaven stood in his office, looking at the peculiar weapon he had retrieved from the Jedi. He ignited the lightsaber, and the blade hissed out a glowing yellow. He gave it an experimental swing, noting the unfamiliar weight distribution of it.

The officer swung it gently, familiarizing himself with it, and gradually grew more open in his movements as he became accustomed to the balance of the lightsaber.

He was still toying with it fifteen minutes later when the door slid open, admitting Lieutenant Shar.

The woman looked curiously at Kaven as he stood with the lightsaber held in both hands as she entered.

"Experimenting, Erril?" she asked.

He extinguished the blade and straightened, feeling self-conscious. "I thought you were returning to the blockade," he said.

She watched him fix it to his belt. "I am. I felt it necessary to inform you before I left. So it is true that you killed the Jedi yourself?"

"Yes."

"And you're keeping the lightsaber?"

"What do you expect me to do, throw it in the rubbish bin?" Kaven asked, with some incredulity. "Of course I'm keeping it."

"I see," Shar said, smiling a little at his reaction. "I will be returning to the blockade now, Commander."

"All right," he replied. "Do be careful flying through that storm, Bryn. Take care of yourself..."

The little smile faltered, and her mouth became a flat line. "Rough weather is _not _an obstacle," she told him. "No more for me than for you, Erril."

The pilot gave her a sunny grin. "Oh, good."

After she had left, Kaven sat down. He and Bryn had been antagonistic toward each other since the day they met. She seemed to have adopted him as a personal rival, despite the fact that there _were _better pilots than him in the Empire with whom she could compete. Kaven didn't mind the rivalry, though, and part of him wished he could butt heads with her more often, even while another part did want to get along.

He smiled archly. Their discordant relationship had begun the day they had met at the academy, when he had flirted with her and then had gotten _told. _For some reason that had only interested him more, and during their time at the academy and in flight school he had developed a definite liking for fighting with her, sometimes just to see the sparks fly, and sometimes because he just couldn't help it. Something about him just seemed to aggravate her, and something about _her _made Kaven's natural snark get worse.

Now, six years later, he was starting to remember why he had fancied her. In some sick, twisted way, she was just his type. Or, one of them, anyway.

The arch smile becoming a grin, he leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. The unfamiliar addition of the lightsaber shifted with his movement, and he glanced down. He unhooked it from his belt and looked at it again.

A lightsaber could be used to deflect blaster bolts, and even send them right back to the shooter. With the right amount of practice, maybe it was possible for him to do the same. His reflexes were lightning fast, like any pilot's ought to be, so surely he could learn to make like a Jedi and repel laser shots. The skill could come in useful if he were to board an enemy ship, or to have his own ship be boarded.

He considered how to go about practice. During target practice he had used a remote, and the fast-moving little droid had greatly improved his sharpshooting skills. He had also on occasion felt the sting of a shot from the little buggers.

With that thought in mind he rose and left the office, in search of a training remote.

* * *

The shuttle emerged from the cloud cover and shot upward, continuing toward the Bal'demnic blockade.

From where she sat in the pilot's seat Lieutenant Shar was still alight with aggravation over her parting with Erril Kaven. The worst of it was that she wasn't quite sure what it was that was bothering her, and that in itself was frustrating.

It might have been that Kaven had one-upped her again with the killing of the Jedi. Despite what she had accomplished by sweeping heroically into the hangar with backup troops, something for which he had even thanked her, he had still been the one to defeat a Jedi Knight in single combat and save the mines. With the help of a chunk of cortosis and a stroke of luck, by the sounds of things.

It could have been that he had kept the lightsaber; it had surprised her a little that he hadn't made some sort of snarky little gloating comment over it. Many in his position would have kept it as a trophy, but the way Kaven had acted had made it seem more of a matter-of-fact acquisition than a prize.

It might have been that after six years Kaven was still alive, despite being Kaven. Unless he had changed since flight school, which didn't seem the case, he was still the devil-may-care hotshot flyboy he had always been. Types like that had a life expectancy shorter than an unarmed Jawa in a Tuskan camp. Yet here he was six years later, cocky and accomplished. She was his equal, she had to be, but her career apparently hadn't been quite as eventful, otherwise she too would have been a captain by now. It was the Battle of Salamand-it had promoted him to captain.

It could have been that he had been doing his job well, despite the weirdness of his Bal'demnic assignment. Nothing exceptional, but up to imperial standards. He had been a competent enough commander.

The part of her that she was pointedly ignoring had pointed out another possibility, that it could have been that she found Kaven attractive. Six years had been a nice visual addition and, snarky or not, he had a certain charm.

Ugh.

It was, she decided, just that Kaven was _Kaven. _He was a flippant, arrogant, conceited hotshot with a lot of luck, even if he was a good pilot. He was her rival and things had always been tense between them. Sparks had always flown.

That was it.

The ship sped toward the blockade.

* * *

Kaven sucked his knuckle where the stinging bolt had caught him, glaring at the training remote as if it had giggled. Then he raised the lightsaber again.

Deflecting shots was harder than he had thought it would be. The Jedi certainly made it look easy, anyway. Then again, they had whatever sorcery was on their side. Kaven didn't.

The remote hovered, moving randomly. The officer watched it warily, tensing as he waited for it to take a shot at him.

It took two. Kaven swung, but missed both shots and felt the sting of one hitting his leg and the other his hip. "Ow!" He rubbed the offending spots, looking down at the bright golden blade in his hand. For every ten shots taken, he could deflect one or two only. At best. He might as well have been blindfolded.

Facetiously he closed his eyes and raised the weapon. The remote hovered before him.

On impulse he swung the lightsaber in front of his left leg, and felt a shot deflect. He opened his eyes in surprise, and a second shot hit him in the shoulder.

He squeezed his eyes shut again, and just waited. Like before, he moved on impulse and somehow managed to repel another shot, and then without pausing or even thinking about it he moved the lightsaber over another six inches and deflected again. And again. And again.

After he had deflected two more shots he straightened and opened his eyes, smiling and looking at the Jedi's weapon with pleasant surprise. He had...felt something. As long as he had acted on impulse he had been able to repel the remote's shots.

He turned the remote off and put it away. He could experiment with it some more later, he thought, hooking the lightsaber to his belt. In fact, he _would._

Feeling as if something big had just begun, he replaced the cap on his head, adjusted it, and left.

* * *

Pavel sat on the bunk of the prison cell with his elbows resting on his knees and his head bent. Every now and then he sighed.

The Republic had been driven off, and now he, the Kon'me, and the other captives were going to suffer for it. The gamble they had taken in trying to crush the operation had been an abject failure.

The spy raised his head a little at the murmur of voices outside in the corridor, and when the door to the cell slid open he straightened, then stiffened.

Commander Erril Kaven stepped into the cell, removing his leather gloves in a businesslike way as he did so. An IT-O droid floated after him, its visual receptor resembling an ominous red eye.

Kaven looked down at Pavel and a cool smile touched his lips, and the spy regarded the lightsaber attached to his belt with some horror.

The door slid shut.


	2. Chapter 1: The Dark Jedi

**Chapter 1:**

**The Dark Jedi**

_The space over Kuan, a terrestrial planet located in Imperial territory. Taroon system. Outer Rim._

_Two months after the Bal'demnic incident._

The X-Wing exploded, scattering fragments of gleaming hot metal around it.

"Too slow," said Erril Kaven, and turned his Defender around, orienting on another rebel starfighter some distance ahead of them. The other two TIEs followed smoothly, accelerating along with their leader, and as one unit they closed with their target.

A spray of laser fire. Another explosion.

"Nice shot, Kore," the officer said.

"_As always, Captain_," came the reply. Kaven doubted that Kore Berradeen was smiling-he rarely did-but the pilot sounded pleased with himself. As he should have been-it had been an excellent shot.

On Kaven's other side, Roon Sarda chuckled. "_Glory hound._"

"Aren't we all?" Kaven asked as they began another attack run.

This was it, he thought. This was where he belonged, in his ship with his wing mates, in the middle of a battle that he could feel resonating in himself as he flew. He had attained that moment of unity where he could feel everything around him, and in some small way it was like he had merged with the two flanking him. He could see them in his mind's eye, Roon sitting alert and watching for the next adventure, and Kore burning with an intense, focused determination. He hated the Alliance as much as Kaven did.

After all, he had had family aboard the Death Star, too.

The young captain wondered if the image of that space station was the one that Kore dredged up as he flew, like _he _sometimes did. For Kore Berradeen it had been a father lost, and for Kaven it had been his older brother, a naval officer whose greatest and last assignment had ended when Kaven had been fourteen, going on fifteen.

After the news had reached home, his future in the imperial military had been cemented. Now here he was, twenty-five years old and an ace pilot. It wouldn't be enough until he had seen the end of Rogue Squadron, but it would do.

He hadn't met them yet, after all.

He watched the X-Wing in front of them dive, then execute a series of barrel rolls to avoid the incoming fire. He brought his ship into pursuit, taking aim on the rebel vessel. "You think that twirling's going to help?"

Perhaps noticing the imperial pilot on its tail, the ship dove beneath one of the New Republic frigates, daring him to follow it. The underside was crawling with X- and Y-Wings. The officer accelerated and moved over the transport ship, avoiding the fire from the guns mounted on the vessel. His wing mates followed.

The rebel ship flew out from under the transport on the aft end and Kaven was after it immediately, swooping in behind it.

"Not good enough," the officer said. His thumb tightened on the trigger.

The X-Wing swooped, rolled, and dove, but Kaven was in that nearly trancelike state where raw information seemed to be filtering in from everywhere at once, and he saw each move just before it happened.

The ship came directly into his sights. "You're _mine, _Rebel," Kaven said. "I have you now!" He fired, and the X-Wing exploded.

The officer laughed as he raced by, leaving glowing shards of metal in his wake. Aware that there was another Y-Wing coming in fast behind him, he pulled up sharply, bringing the Defender around in a sort of somersault to fire on the rebel ship.

To his mild surprise Kore got there first, spraying the vessel from behind with a barrage from his Defender's chin cannon. The direct shots pierced the Y-Wing's armour and the ship detonated a moment later. The trio of TIE Defenders glided through the wreckage, scouting for another Republic ship to face, but found that their enemies were retreating. Kaven caught a glimpse of the New Republic's flagship disappearing back into hyperspace along with the others.

_All of this, and not a hint of Rogue Squadron, _the officer thought with some frustration, his satisfaction disappearing as they received their orders to return to their own ship. In all his career he had never once encountered them, and he was beginning to wonder if he never would.

"_Something wrong, Captain?_" Roon asked as they flew toward the fleet's flagship, the Star Destroyer known as the _Imperial Dawn._

"What? No," Kaven lied. "Why do you ask?"

"_You've usually got something to say after a battle like that. We shot down seven ships between us._"

"Well, you don't need _my _praise," Kaven replied. "You know we did well. Well done, gentlemen, et cetera." He tried to ignore the little ache the thought of never running into the ones responsible for the destruction of the first Death Star brought with it. "It's a welcome break from chasing Bordalian pirates."

They swept into the hangar, each of them landing neatly. They disembarked from their ships, and Kaven removed his helmet. The others followed suit, as the officer examined his Defender.

"Hmm. I thought that one was close," he murmured, touching a groove in the ship's right lower solar array, where a shot from an X-Wing had grazed it. It would not affect the Defender's flight in any discernible way, but Kaven preferred keeping things in perfect shape and would spend some time repairing it later.

Some movement caught his eye, and he looked up to see Bryn Shar climbing down from her own ship, helmet under one arm. She had been recently transferred to the _Imperial Dawn. _"Hmm," he said again, this time not as disapprovingly.

Roon Sarda took off her helmet, smoothing the rooster-tails of her short blonde hair with one hand. "Oh no," she said. This went unheard by Kaven, who caught the lieutenant's eye and gave her a friendly smile. Bryn's lips thinned, and she turned her attention back to her ship. The action seemed to restore a little bit of the captain's vitality, and he turned back to his wing mates.

"Well done," he said, this time with more sincerity. "Let's hope we do even better next time."

Kore and Roon exchanged a look, and the man shrugged. "Yes sir," he said in reply, shaking his head to loosen his black hair.

"I really don't see what it is he likes about her," the female pilot muttered as Kaven walked off, passing by Bryn Shar as he left the hangar. The lieutenant's eyes followed him as he walked by. "All they do is drive each other nuts."

Her comrade shrugged again. "You know the captain," he said, as if this explained everything.

* * *

After Kaven had changed out of his flight suit and made his report he went to the ship's cantina, where he found Bryn Shar sitting at a table near the corner, looking as though she were contemplating something. Her attention was on the glass in front of her, and Kaven took the opportunity to slide in across from her.

"Good day," he said, and she looked up in surprise. "Or is it night? Hard to tell, in space."

"Erril!" she said, and regained her composure, giving him a forcibly neutral look instead. "You survived the battle."

"I do tend to do that," Kaven replied. "And it's nice to see you, too. Your concern for my well-being is overwhelming, Bryn."

She frowned at him. "I just show as much concern for you as you do for me," she told him.

The man nodded. "Of course. I just have no doubts that you can take care of yourself."

The lieutenant gave him a long, considering look as he sipped his drink. "How many?" she asked after a time, still watching him carefully.

She meant how many ships he had shot down. Kaven answered honestly, privately surprised that she hadn't chased him off yet. "Three." He saw the corners of her mouth twitch upwards a little, and asked, "How many for you, then?"

"Four."

"Nicely done!"

She gave him another careful look. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"Of course not."

At that Bryn relaxed a little. She was really very career-oriented, Kaven decided. He wondered what her goals were-probably to become the Empire's greatest pilot someday. His own mostly consisted of getting himself into a position where he could annihilate that blasted rebel squadron. There would be no peace for him until he did.

"Where's the lightsaber?" Bryn asked.

Kaven leaned back and took it from his belt, holding it up. Since the Bal'demnic incident he had kept it at his side, training with the remote when he could. He wouldn't trust himself to survive heavy to moderate fire with just the lightsaber to protect him, but anything less than that he might get out of, with luck. It would have been nice to have an instructor to teach him how to use it properly, though.

He put it back on his belt. "I'm surprised you haven't gotten rid of me yet."

"I'm surprised you haven't picked a fight with me yet."

Kaven gave her a wide smile that held just a spark of mischief in it. "Would you like me to?"

"Don't start," she warned.

"Yes, _Lieutenant_."

She glared at him as he stood up. "Well," he said, "I'm going to go do a few ship repairs and get what sleep I can before my next flight shift. We should knock heads more often, Bryn. I think I missed that over the years."

He waved, and left. Lieutenant Shar stood up to demand what satisfaction he could possibly get from arguing with her, but Kaven had already gone, and so she sat down and crossed her arms.

Kaven was an antagonistic son of a Kath hound. If he were less determined to irritate her they might have gotten along, but he enjoyed himself too much for that.

It was really a typical run of luck to have to share a tour of duty with him, she thought. Well, if they had to serve together, she would show him just how skilled of a pilot she was. With another assignment or two under her belt she could well be promoted to captain. From there, anything could happen, and she was determined to be the one to come out on top.

Today she had outstripped him. She could do it again.

_You'll never beat me, Erril, _she thought, and a little smile returned to her lips.

* * *

Once he had finished with his ship Kaven returned to his quarters. He lay contemplatively on his cot with his hands behind his head and his ankles hooked over one another. The tunic of his uniform hung open, and the Jedi's lightsaber lay across his stomach. He reached down and touched the handle of it as he thought.

The energy he'd gleaned from visiting with Bryn hadn't lasted long once he had turned his attention toward his ship. He had started thinking about Rogue Squadron again, and since then he had worried-actually _worried!_-over the prospect of never meeting them in his career. They didn't work like other squadrons, he knew. They were only called out sometimes. There was something special about them, and it would take something special to meet them.

The thought that he never would was something that infuriated Kaven. He would have to _generate _something special, the pilot mused, turning the handle of the lightsaber in his hand as he thought, or else spend the rest of his life feeling the weight on his shoulders that was the Battle of Yavin.

That, he didn't want. Ten years was enough.

Bryn probably had that much on him, he decided. Their conversations weren't exactly personal, but he had never gotten the impression that she was in the same sort of situation as him. It would probably delight her to know that he envied her that.

He set the lightsaber back down on his stomach, closing his eyes. Eventually he dozed off like that, with one hand behind his head and the other still holding the Jedi's weapon.

* * *

His eyes snapped open at a horrible noise and he sat up, disoriented, the lightsaber clattering to the floor. For a few bare seconds he looked around himself before realizing that the noise was the intercom.

They were under attack. He leapt to his feet, buttoning his tunic and snatching his hat and lightsaber, clipping it to his belt as he ran out of his quarters.

An explosion rocked the ship then, and his feet skidded on the floor. Feeling an almost electrical surge of adrenaline, Kaven made his way to the hangars. A glimpse of the chaos inside made him draw his blaster pistol, and he began firing on the Republic troops that had managed to board them. They returned fire, and a blaster bolt missed Kaven's head by bare inches.

"What took you so long?" Bryn Shar asked, from where she was crouching behind a stack of supply crates. She was putting a fresh clip into her blaster.

Kaven joined her. "You know me, Bryn. Fashionably late." He drew back as another bolt whizzed by, too close for comfort. "Maybe that wasn't the best choice of words," he admitted.

That was the last they spoke for a few minutes, as the firefight continued. Then the lieutenant cursed as a New Republic shuttle swept into the hangar, and a particularly unladylike exclamation followed at the sight of another coming in. Kaven echoed that sentiment when he heard the others calling for them to fall back and saw that they were all but pinned down behind the crates.

"We're going to Hangar D," he said. "We'll have to make a run for it."

"But my _ship _is in here!"

The male pilot jerked his head toward the Alliance forces. "_They're _in here. And _my _ship's in here, too-" he peeked around the crates before pulling his head back in a second later with a growl, "-or at least it _would _be if those rebel scumbags hadn't totalled it with their-" He shook his head. "D's got some extra ships. We'll take them, and we'll do what we're best at, okay?"

Bryn nodded. "Fine. But first things first, Erril. We need to get out of here alive."

Kaven looked. They would have to spend a few seconds without any cover in direct sight of the rebels. It was more than enough time to get shot.

Then he remembered the lightsaber at his belt.

"Get ready," he said, gripping it. Not far away, a fellow flight officer fell. Bryn's eyes moved to the lightsaber and a look of doubt came over her face, but she said nothing and got ready to make a mad dash for the doors.

He ignited it. Both of them came streaking out from behind the crates, and both immediately became targets. Kaven was aware of yells from the rebels, mostly reacting to the sight of the lightsaber. No one expected an imperial officer to have one.

On impulse he swung to the side and deflected a shot, almost missing it, and then put on a burst of speed as they passed through the doors amid a hail of blaster fire. The female pilot pressed a button, and the doors began to shut.

A stray blaster bolt whizzed through, and passed over Kaven's head. It was close enough for the officer to feel it burn through the very crown of his cap.

Bryn locked the door. She turned to Kaven and her eyes opened a little wider. She stabbed a finger in his direction. "You," she said, "are lucky."

The young man extinguished the glowing blade and reached up, removing his hat. There was a hole burnt through it, just above the pip. He sighed and replaced it as they started for Hangar D. On the way the devastation in Hangar C caught up with him, and he began to wonder what had happened to his wing mates. They were alive, surely, but he had no idea where they were.

They entered the hangar at a run to find the _Imperial Dawn'_s captain, accompanied by those who had escaped from the besieged hangar, as well as an assortment of TIE pilots. There was a _Lambda-_class shuttle there as well, and the pilots were boarding it.

Thule turned. "Kaven and Shar!" he exclaimed, spotting them, "You should have been planetside by now, not dawdling on board. You had your orders."

Kaven had been asleep and missed some of them. "My apologies, Captain Thule, sir," he said. "Lieutenant Shar and I were pinned down in Hangar C. We could not reach our ships."

"The rest of your respective squadrons are already out fighting," the older man returned. "All of our reserve TIE series ships are in use. You will accompany _them _to the South Kuan shipyards, where you will secure replacement ships along with the other pilots."

"Yes, sir," Kaven and Bryn said together. They boarded the shuttle and sat down among the others.

"Not exactly the blue milk run it was earlier, hm?" The male officer said, feeling the hum of the ion engines in his seat as they took off.

Lieutenant Shar was sitting across from him with her arms folded across her chest. "Now that was a blue milk run?"

The ship shook ominously. They were under fire from the Republic forces outside. "If we were the escorts for this craft we wouldn't be getting hit," Kaven said, uncomfortably. There was another rumble. "Ugh. I'm going to the cockpit."

"You're not the pilot of this ship."

"Pretty soon there won't be a ship _to _pilot. I've got the feeling our escort's no longer around to protect us."

_Just arrogant, _Bryn thought, as Kaven disappeared through the doorway. _He doesn't seriously think he's going to be allowed to pull something like this, does he?_

* * *

"I told you, let _me _get us planetside," Kaven said.

"_I _am this ship's pilot," the man he was talking to said icily. "Return to the passengers' compartments immediately. You'll be in your fighter soon enough."

But Kaven was persistent. "We're in the middle of a battle zone. All but one of our escort ships are destroyed. We're under heavy fire, and we're being hit." He resisted the urge to say, _you need to take better evasive action than this _and said instead, "I'll get us safely to the shipyards."

"You're not-"

The young officer had had enough. He disliked pulling rank, but they could well become interstellar dust if he didn't. "I am a pilot and a captain in the Imperial Navy, Lieutenant. Give me control of the ship, and that's an order."

* * *

From where she sat with the others, Bryn Shar felt the change in the ship's movements. They were still taking evasive action, but it wasn't the same style as before. They were moving to and fro, and the ominous crash of fire against their shields had not sounded for some time.

No. He couldn't have.

She was already moving before she knew it, up and walking in the direction of the cockpit. The door slid open and her suspicions were confirmed.

"Hello, love," Kaven said as she came in, without turning around. "We're about to enter the atmosphere."

"Don't address me like that."

"Sorry, Lieutenant."

He had decided to be the hero of the day, take over the ship, and then sweep down over the South Kuan shipyards, the woman thought. She had to wonder: did he do this all the time, or was he just showing off? They hadn't worked together in six years, but from the cheeky little smile he flashed over his shoulder, it could have been either option.

"You amaze me sometimes, Erril," she said, shaking her head.

"I amaze myself sometimes." They entered the atmosphere and plunged down through the cloud cover. Both officers looked at the planetside action, as imperial and rebel ground forces clashed. "Uh-oh," Kaven said. "The fighting's gotten pretty close to the shipyards. I'll have to land a couple of kilometres away, unless we'd rather be ambushed."

* * *

They touched down in a rocky expanse three kilometres from the shipyards, and there they disembarked. There were twenty Stormtroopers among them as escorts, though the other thirty-four passengers were composed of flight officers and pilots.

A dry, dusty breeze blew Kaven's hair as he stepped out, and he looked around them at the badlands of South Kuan. In all directions lay bare, red rock and crags that jutted up out of the stony wastes. They could hear the fighting from where they stood.

Kaven had been to Kuan before and hadn't minded it, but right now there was something about it he just didn't like. There was something out of place here, somehow.

Bryn elbowed him, and he fell into step behind her and the troops, looking around. There were no rebel or imperial forces within sight, save for their own group, but the pilot couldn't help but feel as though someone were there.

They pressed on. It was like a shadow growing in his mind, he thought as they walked. There had to be something there; it wasn't like him to be paranoid.

He lightly touched the lieutenant's shoulder. "Bryn," he whispered, "Do you feel like we're being watched?" She shook her head. Kaven fell silent, looking around at the bluffs. There was nothing in sight.

"Getting jumpy, flyboy?" Bryn whispered back, seeming both amused and a bit surprised at seeing the devil-may-care pilot becoming nervous.

At that, Kaven's basic personality reasserted itself. "Terrified. Hold me."

She snorted and turned back to the group at large. They plodded on through the red dirt and rock, and when they were only a kilometre from the shipyards Kaven came to a halt. The female pilot looked over her shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow.

"That cliff looks like a good place to scout from," the young officer said, nodding toward a high rocky plateau. "I'm going to climb up and have a look. I've still got that weird feeling that something's here."

"It's probably just some animal watching us," Bryn told him. "We've got a mission to complete, Erril."

"I'll catch up with you. I'll only be a minute. Don't wait for me." Kaven excused himself for the group, moving toward the rocky shelf. As he did so the feeling got stronger and the pilot felt a coldness on his back, and realized that he was indeed getting nervous. Nonetheless he moved on, climbing from rock to rock and touching the lightsaber at his belt to reassure himself when the shadow in his mind got closer.

At last he got to the top. He could clearly see the troop of fifty-three moving toward the shipyards, and farther on, the ground forces of either side fighting. The imperial troops appeared to be dominating the battle; a cheering thought to Kaven, who hated the New Republic.

The cheer did not last long, for suddenly the shadow was there with him again, and he felt something that was like a tremble in the air. He whirled around. "Who's there?" he demanded, drawing his blaster. "Show yourself!"

A very tall, broad-shouldered figure in a black cloak stepped out from behind a rock wall. It made no sound at all as it did so, and moved with a grace that belied its size. It stood two full metres, and towered over Kaven. In fact the officer looked tiny next to it, both in height and build. The cowl of the cloak was up, but Kaven could see the face beneath it clearly. It was reptilian, male, with green and grey scales and cold yellow eyes.

A Chistori. The pilot involuntarily took a step back.

"An officer," he said. His voice was smooth and deep. "And here I had been expecting a Jedi. How disappointing."

Kaven bit down a particularly snarky reply and instead said, "You might find a Jedi or two down in that battle if you're lucky."

The Chistori took a step closer. The shadow came with him, and Kaven realized that while the alien was a Jedi of some sort, he felt nothing like the Togruta. There was something dark and terrible about him. "But _you _wear a lightsaber at your belt. I sense...fear in you, and anger as well. That could prove useful."

"Stay away from me." Kaven pointed the blaster at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The evil Jedi held up a hand, and the weapon was torn from Kaven's fingers. It flew toward the stranger and stopped in midair before him, and at a crook of his finger it crumpled and fell to the ground in a lump of crushed metal.

Kaven began walking backwards as the figure approached him, trying to keep as much distance between them as he could. There was another strange tremble, and he chanced a look over his shoulder. He was close to the ledge.

"Do you know nothing of the Force?" the Chistori asked. "Is the lightsaber only a trophy, then?" Thin-lipped, Kaven shook his head.

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about." He opened his mouth to say _go find some Jedi to harass, _but thought better of it, and closed it. _How am I going to get out of this? _he wondered. The evil Jedi was pretty intent on him. Had the Togruta woman from the Bal'demnic incident been intent on him, he wouldn't have minded, but he couldn't help but think of himself as a snack in the presence of _this _alien. "I serve the Empire," he said, moving away from the ledge and toward the path along the cliff face.

The Chistori didn't move as Kaven began to back away down the path, and once he was mostly obscured by the rock he turned and began to run. A warning sounded somewhere in his mind and he leapt. Part of the path collapsed as if something had struck it very hard. He landed further on and kept going.

Kaven came to a halt once he had reached the bottom, looking back up toward the plateau. He could no longer feel the shadow. The Chistori could well be watching from above with amusement as he scurried away.

He could return to the troops, assure Bryn that there was nothing worse than a telekinetic lizard-man stalking them, and then get into a Defender and get the hell off of Kuan.

He turned, and let out a cry as he saw that the Chistori was standing behind him. Kaven jumped back and grabbed for the lightsaber, igniting it and holding it before him protectively.

The evil Jedi grinned. "Ah. You _do _feel the Force," he said. He brushed one side of his cloak away, revealing a lightsaber at his own hip. He drew it and ignited it. It was a glowing, bloody red.

Kaven held the handle of his own lightsaber solidly in both hands. It wasn't very reassuring, considering that he was no swordsman, but it was either that, run like mad and probably get caught, or get into fisticuffs with someone nine inches taller, at least fifty pounds heavier, and possessed of a carnivorous snout with teeth made for rending flesh.

The Chistori strode toward him with purpose, and Kaven swung the lightsaber as hard as he could. There was a flash of red and the fleeting feel of heat, and then the officer overbalanced and stumbled. His hands came apart.

Half of the lightsaber handle was clutched in each fist. It had been severed neatly in the middle, _right between his hands._

Kaven dropped the handle halves and looked to the stranger with dismay. What remained of his life, he was aware, could be counted in seconds.

The cold yellow eyes were narrowed. "You don't even know how to handle a lightsaber," the evil Jedi hissed. Then he straightened. "However, _I _could teach you the ways of the dark side. As my apprentice, you could become quite strong."

"Are you nuts!" Kaven retorted, unable to hold it back. "You stalk our troops looking for Jedi, scare the living hell out of me, destroy my blaster _and _lightsaber, and then ask me to be your apprentice? No!"

The Chistori reached out and took him by the throat then, lifting him with one hand. He brought the choking Kaven closer. "I did not _ask,_" he said, enunciating each word.

So, the choice was to join him in whatever weird religion he followed, or die. Very absolute, Kaven thought. Very black and white.

The pilot made his decision.

"Here's...my...answer," he said, and in no uncertain terms told the Chistori his thoughts on the matter. The Jedi's yellow eyes widened, and he bared his teeth in anger.

Unexpectedly he let Kaven go. The officer fell into the dirt in a heap, gasping for breath, one hand rising to his sore neck. Air had never before been so sweet.

"You _will _pay for that," the stranger said. The officer looked up as he raised a hand, and suddenly lightning shot from his fingertips, striking the human directly. Unbelievable agony wracked Kaven's form, and he screamed. The lightning stopped. Kaven began to take a breath, and the Jedi shot him through with lightning again. He screamed again, louder than he ever had. The evil Jedi shocked him a third time.

When he could open his eyes again he saw the Chistori's feet approaching. He saw the lightsaber approaching.

Suddenly there were shouts, and the sound of blaster fire filled his ears. The feet suddenly retreated as the Jedi began to parry the blaster bolts. Kaven watched the lightsaber weave through the air, deflecting the bolts. He hurt too badly to move, and although he wanted to believe that the ones approaching were Stormtroopers, he knew that they were not.

Through darkening vision he watched the cloaked figure turn and run, moving with supernatural speed. The sound of footsteps came closer.

"It's an imp officer," someone said. "One of the Starfighter Corps."

A hand fell on his shoulder and he was turned over. Republic soldiers were looking down at him.

"Isn't that Kaven? From the Bal'demnic operation?"

"Take him with us. They'll want him for questioning."

_Stars' end, _Kaven thought, as he passed out.


	3. Chapter 2: Mind Tricks

**Chapter 2:**

**Mind Tricks**

_Infel. A small terrestrial planet located in the Auril sector. Outer Rim._

_Several days after the Kuan incident._

Kaven awoke from vague terrible dreams of red lightsabers to find himself lying on his back in a jail cell. He sat up, disoriented, looking around, and froze when he heard someone say, "Ah, he's awake at last! Good morning, Captain!"

He looked to where a Republic soldier was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, just in front of the force field. He was obviously the jailer, and cheerful about it.

The officer stood up abruptly. "Where am I?" he demanded.

"At our base. That's all you need to know for now, I think."

He had been captured by rebels, Kaven remembered. He barely remembered anything after the electrocution. "How long have I been here?"

"Two days. You were in a bacta tank most of the time."

"You rebels are going to get nothing out of me," Kaven said coldly.

"We'll see about that, Captain. There's a lot they'd like to ask you."

* * *

"And what is your affiliation with the Dark Jedi?" the Republic officer asked. He sat directly across the table from Kaven with his hands folded in front of him. He was middle-aged and craggy-featured, and his name was Captain Llamas.

"I have no affiliation." Kaven, sitting with his arms crossed tightly across his chest, stared obstinately back at him.

"You were not at all familiar with him?" The imperial officer was silent, and merely glanced at the two guards on the room with something like boredom. "What was the nature of your mission to Kuan?" the captain pressed.

"Getting strangled by an anthropomorphic lizard in a cape," Kaven returned testily. Faint bruises still stood out on his neck.

"I am aware that you are a flight officer in the Starfighter Corps. What brought you planetside?"

"Bad luck."

The Republic officer could see that the young man would continue to be uncooperative. They had been at this for three hours already, and the only information that he had levered from Kaven was the fact that he had been fighting with the dark Jedi, already an obvious fact from the state in which the troops had found him.

Captain Llamas was, however, a patient man. Sooner or later a prisoner would speak, if the means of extracting information could only be found. All he had gotten from Kaven had been dry sarcasm and frosty replies. That would change.

The older man disliked the use of droids in interrogation, but that option remained open if this officer continued to be obstinate. Kaven's circumstances were suspicious, and he might prove to have very valuable information regarding the rumours of the 'Reborn', whatever that might have been. A project, a group, a weapon-Republic intelligence had not been able to gather anything on it. Mentions were all they had. It was worrisome.

"What is the name of the Star Destroyer on which you serve?"

Kaven shrugged.

And so it continued, hour after hour.

* * *

It continued the next day.

"If you're not willing to tell me about your mission, tell me about yourself."

Kaven gave the officer an evil smile. "I am Captain Erril Kaven of the Starfighter Corps. I was born in the desert wastes of Tatooine. My mother was a slave, my father was a Tuskan Raider. They were poor but honest, and died of the womp rats when I was only a teenager. I joined the Empire to cope with the grief."

Captain Llamas sighed. "I am well aware of where you were born, young man. _Coruscant._"

"We must have moved when I was a baby, then."

"We have a file on you."

"After the tragedy struck I used to snipe womp rats, just to vent. Then I joined the Imperial Starfighter Corps and, well, things haven't changed much. I still snipe womp rats." Kaven's smile was quite cold. "Only now I do it in a ship."

"Just what is it you hate about the New Republic?"

Kaven shrugged.

"The Empire's record isn't spotless."

"It's not politics," the imperial officer said. "What's in my file?"

"Enough information to know whether you're telling the truth or not."

The young captain leaned back in his chair. The hours of interrogation had begun to show. "Then what's the point of interrogation? You've got the information."

Kaven knew very well what the point of all that had happened was, Llamas knew. Perhaps it had already started to wear on him. But he had attended the officers' academy on Corulag, and like anyone else there would have endured an entire week's worth of interrogation, in the draconian style of the Empire. It would take more than two days to get him to talk.

"What do you know about the Reborn?" the older man asked.

"Reborn? Sounds religious."

"Does it, now?"

"The lizard-man was part of some weird religion. You could ask _him _about it." Kaven raked a hand through his hair. "I'd warn you against that, though. He's big on the convert-or-kill mode of thinking."

"The Chistori's name was Hrakis." No recognition came into the pilot's eyes. "Are you aware of why he was on Kuan?"

Kaven shrugged again. "He was nattering about Jedi. I was looking at his teeth, so, no. Why was he on Kuan?"

"What did he say about the Jedi?"

"Not much. He mistook me for one at first."

The pilot saw something change in the rebel officer's eyes, and wondered if he had said too much. "Why would he mistake you for a Jedi?" Llamas asked.

"I had a lightsaber at my belt," the younger man replied. They had confiscated the halves of it, which had been lying beside him when they had found him.

The officer seemed to relax a bit. "Where did you get the lightsaber?"

"You wouldn't believe the things you can find in a junk shop."

"Keep it up," Llamas said, frustrated.

"Thank you. I will."

It continued.

* * *

Kaven's eyes opened a little at a noise, and then he woke up fully, seeing that the doors to the jail had slid open. He almost welcomed it, for it had pulled him out of the unpleasant dreams he had been having.

He sat up, and the barrier to his cell switched off. An officer walked in. This one was taller and much younger than Captain Llamas, with a stern and narrow face. He would have fit in well as an imperial officer, the pilot decided. He had a certain something.

The officer said, "My name is Lieutenant Sutler."

"Another interrogation?" Kaven asked. He had only had one two hours before. "Very well. But don't expect me to talk."

Sutler smiled thinly. "Tell me about yourself, Captain Kaven."

The pilot glanced at the two Republic soldiers standing outside the cell, blaster rifles held across their chests. "I'm sure you've looked at the files."

"Humour me."

There was something draconian about the man. Kaven said, "I was born on a starship called the _Queen May_; we had been travelling in the Kashyyyk system, where we were shot down by pirates. I was the only survivor of the crash, and I was found and raised by the Wookiees. Years later, I was kidnapped by imperials and adopted as their own. I joined the Starfighter Corps to fight pirates like the ones who had shot my family's ship down."

The two guards exchanged a quizzical look. "And did you succeed?" the officer asked.

"Of course. I must have shot down at least a hundred pirates in my career."

"Very impressive," Sutler said smoothly. "Now-" he turned and took something from one of the soldiers, "-what can you tell me about this?"

He was holding the two pieces of the lightsaber Hrakis had sliced in half. "It's beyond _my _ability to repair," Kaven told him. Sutler just waited, staring at him. Finally the imperial officer said, "It's a lightsaber. Jedi use them. The Chistori thought I was a Jedi when I had it."

"But you are not, of course. This is the lightsaber belonging to the late Midea Locke of the Jedi order?" Kaven did not reply. "The Jedi Knight who was killed on Bal'demnic by Commander Erril Kaven who, for reasons undisclosed, was assigned the role of overseeing a cortosis mining operation?"

Again Kaven did not reply. "Now, why would a TIE pilot be assigned to head an operation of that nature, unless there was something unusual about the pilot-or his affiliations?" the officer asked, running a finger over the sundered weapon.

After the battle on Bal'demnic Kaven had continued the assignment for several weeks until Admiral Makar had pulled him from it, when there had been no further incidents. He had questioned the man's motivation in placing him there, and the admiral had told him that he had been there because he was good at avoiding danger, and that where Taal and Gonner had died Kaven had managed to survive and keep the operation going. The pilot doubted that he had all the information, but he was used to the admiral's occasional eccentricities and hadn't worried about it. Until now.

He said none of these things, of course, and just watched Sutler carefully.

"Where was the cortosis being sent?" Sutler asked. Kaven shook his head. "I see. The captain did say that you were being stubborn..."

The older man half turned and signalled. For a moment the pilot thought that it had been to the guards, who didn't move, but then he realized the truth as an interrogation droid entered the cell. It hovered at Sutler's side.

"Where was the cortosis being sent?" the lieutenant asked again.

Kaven was silent, and just shook his head again. Sutler straightened. "Very well," he said.

The droid moved in.

* * *

Later, after they had left the unconscious Kaven in his cell to recuperate, Lieutenant Sutler made his report to the captain.

"What did you find out?" Captain Llamas asked, once the man had come in.

"Nothing," Sutler said with some disgust, "nothing at all." He took a breath. "Even the injection was not of much help, sir. I am certain that he knows something, but it will take more than one session with the droid to get it from him."

"I see."

"Have we gathered any more information on him?" the lieutenant asked. It was difficult to tell when Kaven was telling the truth, and background knowledge would be a blessing at this stage. "Perhaps about the Bal'demnic assignment?"

"It was undisclosed as to why he was assigned to it, though we were able to get his military records and some personal background knowledge."

"Yes?"

"He's from Coruscant, from a good military family. Before the end of the Clone Wars the majority of his family had served the Old Republic, and since then the Empire. He has two brothers, one of whom is deceased. His records are good, though he received a demotion once for deliberately disobeying a superior's orders, and several demerits for the same sort of behaviour."

"I have to say that I am not surprised, sir."

"His piloting record, however, is excellent," Llamas continued. "The Remnant considers him one of their most valuable flying aces."

"Fancy that," Sutler said, staring off into space. He appeared to be thinking about something. Perhaps something mathematical. "Mm. I'll have a look at those records right away..."

* * *

Erril Kaven woke up, and then wished he hadn't. The injections from the interrogation droid had left him feeling shaky and sore. He sat up with a little moan, and then put his head in his hands.

He wasn't sure whether being awake or being asleep was worse, for the time being. Being asleep had brought feverish, grating dreams full of noise and colour, and being awake had brought with it the aftermath of his hours with the lieutenant and his droid, the discouraging knowledge that he was in enemy hands, and the knowledge of the immediate future, which was full of interrogation sequences like the one earlier that night-or day, he wasn't sure what time it was.

Awake was better, he decided grimly. His vivid dreams were usually unpleasant, and this sort of thing just made them worse. There had been dogfights in tonight's feature, more colourful and jarring than they could ever be in reality; he had been flying with someone who might have been his brother, though which one he didn't know, and with Midea Locke on his other side. The ships they'd destroyed just kept reforming and coming at them again and again, until both of his co-pilots were dead, and-

He put a hand to his face and groaned. Then he got up and went to the barrier, looking out into the room. The jailer was there, and looked over at the movement in the cell.

"Gripe, you look awful," the man said, moving to stand before Kaven.

"What time is it?" the officer demanded. The jailer raised his eyebrows at the surprising strength of his tone. Kaven looked more fit to fall over than anything.

"Uh, 0300 hours."

"What planet is this? Where is this base?"

"I told you, I can't-"

"_Where am I, _Rebel?"

The jailer blinked. "Infel," he said, then stopped. The momentary look of uncertainty left him and he said, "Anyway, it's not going to help you. You're stuck here."

Kaven turned on his heel and went back to the narrow cot. He lay down, throwing one arm over his eyes, and thought, _Infel. Infel. I've heard that name before. It's a tiny planet just off the Hydian Way route. They use it as a shipping hub since it goes right to the Core worlds._

If he could get off-planet, he could get back into imperial territory in no time. It would involve getting out of the cell, then getting out of the base, and _then _getting off-planet, but it would give him something to think about between interrogations.

It was a welcome change.

* * *

Lieutenant Sutler brought the droid again the next day. Kaven, though a little more cooperative, still did not reveal anything about the Reborn, the cortosis, his mission on Kuan, or the dark Jedi he had met there. His sarcasm was disappearing, however, and his stories were taking on a less fabricated aspect.

Leaving the young officer lying unconscious in his cell, the lieutenant again made his report to Captain Llamas.

"It is as though he has some resistance to the droid's injections," Sutler said. "Rather like a Jedi, I am told." He exchanged a look with his superior. "Captain, I would like to request permission to run a test for midi-chlorians on this man."

"You suspect that he's capable of using the Force?"

"I suspect that he's been using it already." Sutler's face was expressionless. "Should this be true, it would explain his flight records and the difficulty we've been having in interrogating him, quite apart from his attitude. Perhaps his affiliation with Hrakis as well."

Llamas thought about it. "This could be considered unethical," he said finally. "This is a medical test, and as citizens of the New Republic we are not well disposed toward such testing without consent."

"He is an Imperial citizen, not Republic."

"He is in Republic hands, Lieutenant."

Sutler didn't bat an eye. "If he proves capable of using the Force, this would be of interest to the Jedi order. Especially if he's affiliated with Hrakis."

"Lieutenant, I will give you permission to have this test run only if Kaven gives his consent. I will not allow it otherwise."

The younger man nodded once. "As you wish, sir."

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Kaven said, later, after the rebel officer had told him what he wanted. He was looking very pale and tired from his interrogation sessions. "I've spent three solid days in interrogation. I must be getting addled. You want to run a blood test on me, and you want my _consent?_" He laughed loudly, and the sound held a brittle edge. "A blood test? You must be joking!"

Sutler, sitting across from him with his hands atop one another, merely gave him a stony look.

"I've got to ask: what's in it for me, Rebel? And it had better be something good, otherwise I'll just have to refuse."

The lieutenant's lips thinned further. Kaven gave him a bright, manic smile and waited for an answer. Finally the older man told him. "A day," he said, grudgingly, "without the droid."

Kaven leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Sounds like a vacation," the imperial officer mused. "Almost too good to be true."

"Well?"

"I'm thinking." The pilot stared at Sutler as if he were trying to read his mind. "What's going to be done with my blood? How much is needed? Why is it important to you?"

"Three drops, no more. Nothing is going to be done with it, save for the testing. It's a medical test."

"What, to see how long I can take this before I croak? I'm sure the interrogation droid already determined that one. What I want to know is-" Kaven straightened, and then leaned on the table as he spoke, "-what's _in _my blood that's so special?"

In the silence, one could have heard a pin drop.

"Well, that's that," the pilot said after some time, with a shrug. "I guess my answer is _no_. No blood for you."

"A day with neither droid nor questioning," the lieutenant forced out. A bead of sweat stood out on his forehead.

"Ahah, that's better," Kaven returned. "A whole day, Coruscant standard? Twenty-six hours all to myself, to relax and enjoy my two-point-five-by-three-metre cell, without the horror of a droid breathing down my neck?"

"That will be my _final _offer," Sutler snarled.

"And I am thinking of taking it, Lieutenant, really, I am. But it's so hard to tell time in my cell, what with the lack of windows in the jail. Might I have a timer to go with it, if I do accept?"

A heartbeat passed.

"Yes, _yes_," Sutler answered.

Kaven gave him a sunny smile that looked out of place and said, "Then I accept, Lieutenant Sutler. Let's record this transaction so that each may get what he wants, without a single breach of ethic."

The lieutenant stood up.

* * *

"_Now, this won't hurt a bit,_"the medical droid said, in the singsong tones of physicians everywhere, as it stabbed Kaven's finger with a needle. It squeezed three drops of blood into a tiny container, and then let go of him. It began its work in the laboratory as the officer was led out of the medical bay and back to his cell.

He behaved himself perfectly, and paid close attention to the layout of the facility as they walked. He had only seen a tiny part of it, but he wouldn't need to know all of it for an escape. From the jail there was a corridor about fifteen metres long, which contained the entrance to the room he had met Lieutenant Sutler in, which happened to be his interrogation chamber when the droid wasn't involved. There were two other rooms. He didn't know what was in there. The corridor opened into a T junction whose other corridors stretched off to the left and right. The wall he faced when walking _from _the jail had rows of tall windows with latches; from what he could see through them the base was built on a higher elevation, and the area surrounding it was rocky badlands and dirt as far as he could see. There was an incline just outside the window that went down for about eight metres. It was hard to see down there.

The hall to the right led to some place Kaven hadn't seen; there was a solitary door at the end. The left was much longer, and stretched off into a ninety-degree turn to the left on the far end, with a few doors and adjoining halls attached to it, one of which led to the medical bay.

Daylight spilled through the windows as they passed. It was the kind of light that one got later in the day, Kaven noted, and thought quickly about Infel's rotational cycle. It was three hours to sunset, and within six it would be pitch black outside.

Perfect.

The group reached the jail, and the young captain stepped into his cell. "Here," one of the guards said, tossing him a timer. "Your break time starts now."

Kaven caught it and looked at it. It showed 25:59:54. He nodded, went to his cot, and flopped down with such an air of purpose that it made one of the rebel soldiers snort in amusement as they switched the barrier back on and left.

_I've got an idea of where to go once I get out of the cell now, _Kaven thought to himself. _But _getting _out is the most important part. _He glanced through the barrier at the jailer, who presented an interesting obstacle. He never strayed from his post, was always alert, never fell asleep, and never slacked off. He was an excellent guard...and he was also armed. Getting past him was going to be a problem. A _big _problem.

The pilot stared up at the ceiling. At least there weren't any other prisoners in this cell block, he thought. No one to see him and raise a ruckus if he got out.

With his hands interlaced behind his head, Erril Kaven settled in for a long, long problem-solving session.

* * *

An hour passed. Kaven thought. Another hour passed. He wracked his brain, but could not think of anything that would realistically get him out of the cell. If he faked sick the guard would likely just call a stretcher from the medical bay. The man seemed even-tempered and cheerful, so the imperial officer doubted that even he could taunt the guard into coming in after him for a round of fisticuffs, which he would probably lose anyway. Seducing his way out was simply out of the question; even if the pilot hadn't felt about as appealing as a dead mynock, he had no interest in other men and he doubted the guard felt any differently. Luring him in any other way and hitting him over the head was possible, but not likely. Hoping for a freak power outage was about as realistic as expecting Bryn Shar and his wing mates to come thundering in with their guns blazing. Well, he could see Roon doing that, but right now even she probably thought that he'd been eaten by something on Kuan.

He tapped the wall with the side of his boot. Very solid; not that he had any hope of breaking through anything in the first place. Tunnelling was out. Going through the air vent would only have been possible if he were the size of a rat.

Time crawled by. Kaven felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He had one chance to make an escape, but the jail was well-built, the jailer more than competent, and he wasn't sure that he could come up with something good enough to work.

He looked at the timer. 22:43:02. Pitch black at 22:00:00. The night would be the best time to get out.

_It's like that story Lucian told me about that one mission in officers' training, _he thought glumly, remembering how the officer-to-be had told stories to his younger brother. _Where they got captured and had to break out of jail. _His brother had been nineteen, Kaven nine. The little boy had loved hearing how Lucian and the Stormtroopers had gotten out, fighting their way past guards and droids to get back to their ship.

Kaven had an idea of how his older brother must have felt, lying on a cot in a jail cell, trying to think of how best to escape. Maybe it had been easier, since he hadn't been alone, or maybe being in a group had made it all that much harder. Kaven didn't know.

Maybe he'd tricked his way out, the pilot thought with a little smile, but knew that Lucian hadn't known how to do that until Kaven had shown him, and he had been twelve at that time.

Abruptly the little smile disappeared.

The trick. _The mind trick._

Kaven stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, feeling the birth of a revelation. He began to think about it, something he hadn't done in years.

When he was younger, he had learned how to do something. It changed a person's mind and made them agree with him. It didn't work on everyone, though. It hadn't worked on Lucian, who would mock him if he tried it on him, and the rest of his family had been similarly strong-minded. The young Kaven hadn't minded, though, too delighted by the novelty of it, which had worn off after some time.

The last time he had ever actively used the trick had been before he had even graduated from the Academy. During his time there he had forgotten about it, being too concerned with his studies for such games.

Discreetly he glanced at the rebel guard keeping watch over the cell area.

_Could I still do it if I tried? _he wondered.

For a long time he considered that, and thought hard about how he had done it. There was something about the face, the voice, the posture he took when he spoke to someone. A wave of the hand, not too fast, was needed.

After he had thought that over, he looked at the timer. 19:53:56. It was dark out.

He got up and went to the barrier. "I would speak with you, Rebel," he said stiffly.

The guard looked over at him. "Getting lonely, Captain?" he asked, seeming amused by the officer's imperious tone.

Kaven put one hand on the wall and leaned against it, adopting a casual posture. "What would it take for you to let me out of here?" he asked.

"Well, the locations of the cortosis stores that you mined from Bal'demnic, your connections with that Chistori, Hrakis, and a handy number of Imperial codes, among other things," said the guard, coming closer. He was now standing in front of Kaven, on the other side of the barrier. "If you were thinking of bribing me, though, I'm afraid that won't work."

_Perfect, _the officer thought.

Kaven looked directly at the man and said, in a warmer tone than before, "But you don't need any of those things."

A look of momentary puzzlement came over the rebel's face. "But we don't need any of those things," he said.

The officer gave him a friendly smile. "You want to let me out," he said, with a small wave of his hand.

"I want to let you out."

"You _must _let me out."

"I _must _let you out," the guard agreed. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded. "Hold on, sir. I'll turn the barriers off."

"Thank you," said Kaven. He watched as the man went over to the consoles and pressed a few buttons, his back to the officer. With a dying hum the force fields shut off.

The imperial officer quietly snuck up behind him.

The man raised his head. "Huh-" He let out a grunt as the pilot bunched his fists together and cracked him over the head, and crumpled.

Kaven rubbed some life into his stinging hands, and then bent over the guard. He slipped the blaster pistol out of its holster.

_All right, _he thought. _Here we go._

* * *

In the captain's office Lieutenant Sutler paced, impatient for the results of the midi-chlorian testing. Captain Llamas himself sat at his desk, waiting with the patience of a rock.

At last the results came. The door slid open, revealing the medical droid who had taken a sample of Erril Kaven's blood earlier. "_The testing is complete,_" it said.

"And the results?" Sutler prompted.

"_The sample showed a sufficiently high midi-chlorian count. He is, as organics put it, Force-sensitive._"

Struck silence descended upon the room. Kaven was capable of using the Force like the Jedi. As Lieutenant Sutler had expected, the presence of a lightsaber beside his person, his affiliation with Hrakis, his piloting record, and a possible connection with the Reborn, whatever that might be, all added up.

"I am certain that the Jedi would be interested in this," said Sutler.

"Contact them at once," Llamas told him. "Any and every Dark Jedi is a threat to the Republic. If they decide to send a knight to us, we will withhold the interrogations and simply keep Kaven here until he arrives."

"Of course, Captain." The lieutenant left.

* * *

There was no one in the hall outside the jail. Kaven walked down the hall with the blaster held at shoulder height, keeping his footsteps silent and his ears open for sounds.

He approached the junction, and froze when he heard a man's voice coming from down the corridor, on the left side. A woman's voice answered, and there was the sound of a door sliding shut. Then silence.

Kaven peeked out, looking both ways. There was no one there.

He crossed swiftly to the windows and tried to slide one open. It wouldn't move. With a cold feeling the officer struck it with the heel of his hand, and it promptly unstuck. He slid it open and climbed through. His boots slid a little on the incline, but he kept his balance and shut the window. Then he began to edge along the right side of the building, aware that he had to get around the part that jutted out before anyone happened down the corridor, otherwise he would be seen even in the dark.

The officer slipped around the corner.

And ran right into a sentry droid.

Its headpiece swivelled, it looked at him through glowing red optics, and then it started making noise at him.

On reflex the hand holding the blaster came up, and he shot it. There was a brief spray of sparks, and the droid dropped out of view with a crash, rolling down the hill in a small avalanche of rocks and dirt clods.

Kaven took a deep breath and let his heartbeat slow down before he moved on. In the moonlight he could see the dark remains of the droid lying in a heap at the bottom of the ravine. He stepped, keeping a hand on the building for support, watching for any more sentry droids. The last thing he needed was another nasty surprise.

He put his foot down and the dirt underneath his boot abruptly crumbled, throwing his balance off and sending him on a slide down. The officer managed to keep his footing, mostly, and slid on his heels and bottom down the hill. He coasted to a stop and sighed. The movement hadn't seemed to attract any attention.

Trying to get his bearings, Kaven looked up at the foothills over his head, across from the building. The sun had been setting there, so that was west. There was a spaceport northeast of the base, which he found that he recognized now that he had a view of the outside of the building. He'd always thought the place was just a research facility before.

The officer got up and brushed the dirt off of his clothing, then started off north, climbing up the ravine on the other side when he had the chance. He got off the facility grounds as quickly as he could and up onto the shelf, though he had to shoot down another sentry droid that was lurking among the rocks there.

Once he was safely off the grounds and taking a breather behind a pillar of rock Kaven smiled, and then hid a little laugh behind his hand at what he had just done.

A few minutes later the officer slipped out from behind the rocks and ran off into the night, running as only a freed man could.

* * *

Lieutenant Sutler saluted his superior as he re-entered the office. "I've contacted the Jedi," he reported. "They are sending a knight. The Jedi will arrive within the next eight hours."

Llamas nodded. "Good. Then-"

The door slid open and a young soldier came running in. It was the one who had been assigned as the guard to Cell Block B. His face was white as he snapped off a nervous salute.

Sutler turned. "What-"

"Sir, Erril Kaven has escaped!" the soldier burst out.

The captain rose to his feet. "_What?_"

"I don't know how he did it, sir! Well, he, he hit me over the head, but there was something he did before that-" He hesitated.

"Well?" Sutler prompted.

"I don't _know _what he did," the guard said, furrowing his brow. "I was just talking to him. The force field was on. Then he asked me to turn it off, and I couldn't help myself, and I let him out. It was like he hypnotized me or something."

"Jedi mind tricks," the lieutenant growled.

"Lieutenant," said Llamas. Sutler turned. "I will have a search of this base and its grounds conducted. In the meantime I want you to assemble a squad and head out to Vesper Spaceport; if he's gotten off the grounds, he'll probably be heading that way. Your orders are to recapture him and bring him back unharmed."

"Yes, sir." The lieutenant turned on his heel and left.

* * *

Elsewhere Kaven stopped to catch his breath, standing with his hands on his knees. He took the timer from his belt and checked it. 16:02:29. It was about four hours until dawn, and he still had a lot of ground to cover between here and the spaceport.

Suddenly he felt as though something big were coming, and dove into the shadows between a pair of jutting rocks, the blaster in hand.

A gust of wind blew his hair as a disc-like ship passed overhead, sweeping over the badlands and moving onward. He watched it fly off, and in the distance it turned east, probably heading for the same place he was.

Great.

Once he felt ready to make another run across the plains and through the foothills, Kaven started off again. He still wasn't feeling especially healthy, but the air and activity had done him a world of good. The break from the interrogations he had forced out of the lieutenant had been nice, too.

* * *

The Republic ship that had passed over the badlands minutes before docked in the airfield of Vesper Spaceport, and when the gangplank came down it was Lieutenant Sutler who disembarked first, followed by a troop of men.

The group fanned out to search the spaceport. The officer himself went to the customs office first, to see the head of security. Between the port security personnel and the troops sent, Kaven would not get off-planet.

* * *

Kaven opened his eyes, and then started when he saw a long tan snout directly in his line of sight.

The animal that had been investigating him jumped back when it realized that the human had woken up, and behind it Kaven could see another trio of the creatures. He sat up and immediately four pairs of soft brown eyes were on him. The names of the things escaped him at the moment, but they were harmless and the biggest of them only came up to his hip. They had upraised canine ears and long snouts made for sticking into insect mounds, and strong hind legs that they jumped around on all day, counterbalanced with thick tails.

The pilot stretched and got up, and the four bounced off. Patches of sunlight shone down between the crisscrossed land-bridges overhead, and he realized that he had been sleeping for several hours. He must have nodded off when he had stopped for a rest break, then.

He checked the timer. 08:03:22. He had been asleep for just over four hours, then, since the sun hadn't quite been up when he'd stopped in the gully to give his legs a rest.

Kaven looked up. It was an almost cloudless day, and the morning was already getting very warm. He stretched again, still stiff, and walked up the gentle incline at the east end of the gully. Two more of the tan animals hopped away when he emerged, and he looked out to where he could see Vesper Spaceport, built on the open plains below. _Roos, _he thought idly. _They're called roos._

He started toward the port.

* * *

The Starfighter touched down on the landing pad just outside the military base, and the canopy slid up. As Captain Llamas and his aide approached the ship, a figure in robes climbed out. It was a woman in her late twenties, with blonde hair that was bound up in a utilitarian topknot and twin locks dangling on either side of her face. She wasn't wearing the traditional brown robe associated with Jedi, but a purple cape that emerged from beneath silvery blue shoulder plates, and a breastplate of the same metal covered her upper torso. The tunic beneath was dark grey, and a lightsaber hung from the sash at her waist.

"Master Hera," the captain said, by way of greeting. "I heard tell of the victory at Telan IV. Congratulations."

"You ought to be congratulating the troops instead, Captain. They accomplished more than I did," said Hera, but nodded pleasantly at the comment. "Speaking of which, where is this Force-sensitive officer the communication had mentioned?"

Llamas sighed, and told her of what had occurred in the night. Their scouts had found the remains of two sentry droids in the vicinity, one of which had been shot down almost a kilometre from the base. As Kaven had not yet been found, he was most likely somewhere between there and Vesper.

"Then I will join the search," the Jedi announced, after she had heard everything. She turned in a swirl of cape and looked down at where a line of speeder bikes stood, then stopped. She appeared to be listening for something.

Finally she nodded. "Yes. I'll go to the spaceport."

* * *

Kaven slid on his feet the rest of the way down the hill, then pressed his back against a fallen boulder. He looked out at the port, which was alive and busy.

_Here goes._

He started to take a step out, then stopped. _Wait a minute, _he thought, looking down at himself. _I can't just waltz in looking like an imperial officer, this is Republic territory. I'd get caught in seconds._

It wasn't as though he had a change of clothing on him. He glanced out at the port again. There were warehouses and similar buildings closest to him, and from where he stood he could see the shipyards. Beyond them, every now and then a ship rose into the air, taking off from the airfield. He could see the workers at the shipyards.

With an idea in mind, Kaven took off his belt and tunic, turned the tunic inside-out to hide the insignia, and put the belt back on. Then he tied the black tunic around his waist, being careful to hide the distinctive belt buckle, and tucked the blaster behind his back, out of sight. He looked down at himself. He could probably pass himself off as one of the workers now, and might even be able to appear as a ship mechanic if pressed. He rubbed his chin, and then smiled. He probably looked more like the workers than he knew; he was grubby, dressed appropriately, and he even had the five o'clock shadow to match. He had a lighter build, but all in all he could probably fit in.

The amused look vanished, and Kaven started toward the spaceport with purpose, quite aware that if he were caught it would be right back to the rebel base with him, and right back to the questioning sessions with that unpleasant lieutenant.

He entered the fringes of the port unmolested and continued inward, keeping an eye out for any checkpoints. There was one in the street ahead, just under a hundred metres. The guards there were busy talking to a pair of Rodians in a landspeeder, whom they waved by. Kaven moved out of sight behind a very large Devaronian and then stepped into the shade of a narrow alleyway on the right. Infel was not under martial law as far as he knew, so it was likely that his escape had been noted and acted on. He looked out again. The guards at the checkpoint were only stopping vehicles.

The officer went back down the alley, which was quite short, and emerged on a side street. The way was clear, but it led away from the airfields and into the residential area of the port. There was a flight of stone steps up onto the roof of the building on his left, and Kaven climbed up. He stood out of sight of the checkpoint guards and looked out over Vesper. A typical spaceport.

He turned his head. The north side of town was where he wanted to be, but even from here he could see another checkpoint. There was one on each of the main business streets, he realized. The rebel soldiers had been there for hours searching, and every now and then he could see someone, human or otherwise, in a navy uniform. Members of the spaceport security-probably not people he wanted to run into, either.

Kaven climbed down and went back into the flow of beings, deliberately keeping out of sight behind a group that was dressed similarly to him. They moved toward the checkpoint. The pilot had three human men in front of him, a Wookiee on his left, and another Devaronian on his right. He was partially obscured. They moved toward the checkpoint.

As the knot of beings passed between the two guards, the one on the left said, "Stop right there."

Kaven looked hurriedly at him. But the man's attention was on a Theelin woman, who held the reins of a saurian creature pulling a covered cart. The Republic soldier held up a hand and she stopped. "I'm going to have to check your cart," he said to the alien.

The giant lizard grumbled. "What for?" the woman asked.

The group moved on, taking Kaven with it, and he didn't hear the guard's reply. Once they were out of sight he began to breath again.

One of the humans in front of him turned his head to another and remarked, "I hear they bin doin' this all morning, checkin' carts an' landspeeders and lookin' up and down for somebody."

"They're always doing that," his companion said. "It hasn't been a standard month since that hotshot criminal from Dantooine got picked up here. That was an arrest what had the town talking."

"I heard one of the station guys sayin' it was a sorcerer or somethin' this time."

_So I'm a sorcerer now? _Kaven thought. _Mind you, that _was _a good escape, but hardly magical._

He separated from the group and started down a street leading north. There was a knot of men in navy uniforms much farther down, so he turned left, intending to take a detour to get past them, and ran straight into a man from the port security.

"Hey," the man started, "you're-"

"Not anyone you know," Kaven said, waving a hand and hoping the officer wasn't too stubborn to be coerced.

The man blinked. "Not anyone I know," he agreed. "Sorry. Thought I recognized you for a minute." He moved past him, apparently unconcerned. Kaven kept going.

* * *

"Has he not been found _yet?_" Sutler asked with some irritation. "What have you been doing all this time? Looking the other way?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but no," said the young soldier he had addressed. "This port's too busy to check everyone individually, and the new shipments just came from Dantooine and-" Under the lieutenant's stare he faltered, and continued, "Even with the port security we just don't have enough men to conduct a thorough enough sweep of the city. If Kaven's even entered Vesper, he'll have to pass through the checkpoints and avoid the personnel posted on the streets to get to the airfield. We will find him, sir. But no one has seen an imperial officer yet..."

* * *

Under the weight of the boxes he held, Kaven grunted. His arms were shaking from the weight of them, but the important thing was that they were piled high enough to obscure his face from the front, and that his face was turned away from the security guard. He only hoped that he wasn't going to drop them. He picked up his pace a bit, aware that the woman in the navy uniform was watching them, and entered the machine yard at a desperate shuffle. He set the boxes down and glanced over his shoulder. The worker he'd temporarily formed a partnership with shuffled in behind him, muscular arms full of boxes much heavier than the pilot had been able to carry. Behind him the security guard was looking away again, watching the flow of people.

The worker set down his load and turned to Kaven. "You're stronger than you look," he said. "Still wimpy, but you just started, eh?"

Kaven nodded. "Yeah." He had mind-tricked the man into believing that they worked for the same employer and that he was a new helper. The delivery they had done had taken them all the way to the outskirts of the airfield, past checkpoints and more officers, who had virtually ignored them. He could see it clearly from the machine yard. There were a few figures on the landing pads, mostly mechanics working on ships.

"I need to ask the owner of the place something," Kaven said, as the worker started to leave, waving for him to follow. "I'll catch up with you in a minute."

The man nodded and left. The pilot breathed out, then turned and skirted along the side of the building, climbed up a pile of scrap metal, and hopped over the wall surrounding the place. He pressed on for the airfield, and stopped to regard it from an unseen alleyway.

There was a knot of beings just over a hundred metres away, who would most definitely see him and call security if he just walked onto the pad, a paddock full of roos ready to take to whatever destination awaited them, and a set of hangars from which sparks and light issued sporadically. Major ship repair, he guessed. Stacks of crates dotted the field, and beyond them he could see a _beautiful _disc-like ship, the very one he had seen the previous night, sitting docked almost in the middle of the field.

He took a step back when he saw a trio of New Republic soldiers walking across the field, and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully when he saw that one of them was Lieutenant Sutler. They went into the office building. Kaven looked at the ship, then at the building, then back to the ship.

Something in his essential nature was calling to him.

He reached behind him and touched the handle of the blaster hidden behind his tunic. It was a bad idea to try to force his way in, and although he could get up a good turn of speed he doubted that he could get to the ship safely if he just ran for it.

Then he looked at the roos. They were densely packed, obviously not meant to be there long. If he was careful, he could get to the paddock and open the doors without being seen. All it would take would be a loud noise close by to get them running. The group on the field would have to look away-no one could ignore a roo stampede-and then he might have a chance of sprinting for the ship.

Any plan, at this point, was better than nothing. He snuck over to the roo compound and opened the latch carefully, then snuck in among the animals. One licked him. He stole a glance at the airfield. No one was going to hear him if he shouted, so he turned back to the roos, a sea of soft brown eyes and tan fur, and shouted, "_BLAH!_"

Not heroic, he had to admit, but it got the job done; at the sudden noise there were a few jumps in the crowd, and the gate got knocked open. Then the roos really made their escape, while Kaven slipped back to the alleyway, hopping a wall to do so.

It took a moment for the mass of hopping marsupials to get noticed, but when it did there arose shouts from all around, and immediately the group on the field started for them.

* * *

"_Now _what's going on out there?" Sutler glanced out the window, to where the workers on the airfield were trying to round up a hopping, fleeing herd of small animals.

"Oh, not again," said the head of security with dismay. "That's the second time this month. Those roos are too skittish to be kept so close to the airfield..."

"Hmph."

* * *

From where she and Captain Llamas were speeding along the plains, directly toward the airfield, Hera blinked. "I sense...something?"

The Jedi accelerated then, her cape streaming in the wind like a banner as she raced out ahead. Llamas accelerated as well, drawing abreast of the knight.

* * *

Seizing the moment of chaos, Kaven shot out from the alleyway, making a beeline for Sutler's ship. There was more shouting from around, and the pilot saw a security guard running for him, blaster in hand. The pilot reached behind his back and drew the blaster, firing at the guard on the run. To the man's credit he jerked out of the way of the first shot and Kaven missed the second time, but the third shot hit him directly. The guard fell on his back.

The imperial officer reached the ship and brought the gangplank down. He was about to run in, but halted instead.

He was forgetting something.

* * *

Having noticed Erril Kaven running across the airfield toward _his _ship, Lieutenant Sutler had already exited the office building at a run. By the time he was halfway there, however, the blasted pilot had brought the ramp up and as he sprinted for it the ship fired to life.

"_No!_" he cried. "_NO!_"

* * *

From where he sat in the pilot's seat, Kaven felt a sensation and looked out the viewport to see Llamas roaring up on a speeder bike, along with a woman in a purple cape. Lieutenant Sutler came running into view then, shouting something in the direction of the ship.

Kaven doubted that it was anything polite.

"And, here we go," the TIE pilot muttered as he took off.

* * *

The three watched as the ship lifted up and fired away into the clouds with a joyful pirouette; Sutler with speechless fury, Llamas with resigned dismay, and Hera with a look of thoughtfulness.

The wind from the takeoff blew their hair and clothing, and something in the corner of his eye caught Sutler's attention. He looked.

There, hanging from a fuel feed and swinging in the breeze, was the timer.

* * *

**Author's Note: **The droid mentioned in the interrogation sequences was not a torture droid. The injections would be truth serums and so on. Don't worry, I'm not planning on casting the Republic as bad guys-that would be silly!


	4. Chapter 3: Interesting Times

**Chapter 3:**

**Interesting Times**

_Coruscant. Located among the Core worlds. Once the seat of the Galactic Empire._

_Three days after the escape from Infel._

_It's been four years since Coruscant was taken by the Alliance, _Kaven thought as he swept over the sprawling planetwide metropolis that was now the centre of the New Republic. _They've been busy since then. _The imperial pilot was aware of the dangers presented in taking the Hydian Way all the way back to the Core, and in going to Coruscant, but the rebels that had captured him were probably searching around the Outer Rim and the borders of imperial space, and he had some contacts in the capital that could be useful in tracking down his home fleet and getting back to them intact.

The trip back to the Core had been a refreshing one. After a shower, change, shave, meal, and a _long _sleep, he was feeling more like Erril Kaven again, and more than ready to get back into giving the Republic trouble.

Lieutenant Sutler's ship flew beautifully. Not what he was used to, but still aerodynamic and efficient, and not too big to pilot by himself. It gave him an excellent cover as well, being a Republic-made ship-he was able to obtain landing clearance and touch down without trouble.

He had done this before. Not steal a Republic officer's ship and ride it into the heart of enemy territory-even for him that was a new one-but to make a trip to Coruscant despite its affiliations these days. Kaven had been born and raised there, and his family lived there still. He didn't get enough chances to go see them these days, he decided, as he walked up the path to the house.

He felt a movement behind him and turned. His younger brother Jan was walking toward him, quickly as if to catch him up, and to Kaven's surprise he looked angry.

"Erril, what the _hell _are you doing here?" The young officer hissed, once he had closed with him. Jan was dark-haired, with green eyes, and resembled their mother more than their father, with smooth features and dark eyebrows that gave him a slight brooding look. Unlike the rest of his family, though, Jan had chosen to join the imperial army instead of the navy. There were four years between him and Erril.

Kaven blinked. "Jan, what are you talking about?"

"Do you realize how angry dad is about this? You can't just come waltzing in here like nothing's happened," his brother continued. "He's not going to want to see you."

"Jan!" Kaven crossed his arms, frowning. There was a knot of dread beginning to form in his stomach. "If I did something, I need to know what it was."

At that the lieutenant's expression eased. "You...really don't know?"

"I just spent the last few days escaping from Republic forces on the Outer Rim. Enlighten me."

His brother cast a glance around them. "You're wanted, Erril. For betraying the Empire."

Kaven couldn't believe his ears. "_What?_"

"You're wanted as a traitor," Jan repeated, "for leaking information to the Republic, and-stop it, it's not funny, Erril!" he exclaimed, at the pilot's laugh.

Kaven's laugh had been a horrified one. "No, no, it's not," he said. "My god. It's not funny at all. When did you hear about this?"

"Just a few days ago, before I went on leave. So, it's not true?"

"It's not true. I didn't tell anyone _anything._"

"But you were with the-uh, captured by the Republic?"

The pilot nodded. "We got attacked over Kuan and our ship was boarded-I don't know how the battle turned out. My ship got crunched by a Republic landing craft in the hangar and then I got sent planetside with the other pilots to get some replacement ships and get back into the battle. After we had landed I ran into this Chistori who beat me up pretty badly. A group of rebels found me and took me back to their base on Infel. I spent four days in interrogation, and apparently I was unconscious for two more before that." He sighed. "I stole a ship and got out of there three days ago. I spend six days as a prisoner and this apparently makes me some kind of traitor?"

Jan shook his head. "There were reports...a lot of information...is that really all that happened?"

"Want me to give you the long version?"

"Yes."

Kaven told him.

"I believe you," his younger brother said, once he had finished. "Or at least, I want to."

"Nothing's going to undo what happened at Yavin," the pilot told him.

In the long silence that followed, the army officer took a breath. "I'm going to help you," he said, finally. "I don't have access to naval information, but if I _can _give you help, I will. You'll need supplies and you'll have to stay away from both the Empire _and _the Republic until we get this mess cleared up."

"That doesn't leave me much in the way of safe zones," Kaven replied. "But I'll try to find out what's going on at the same time. Any idea of where to start, Jan?"

"Not really. It'll be safer for you on the Outer Rim and the neutral planets, though. Not safe, just safer-there are search parties out looking for you. I wouldn't be surprised if bounty hunters start getting involved."

Kaven let out a low whistle. "Whatever this information was, it sure must have been important, otherwise they wouldn't be bothering this much over a pilot. How am I wanted, Jan-dead or alive?"

"I don't know. Alive, probably, if they think you're playing double agent for the Republic, but I wouldn't make any assumptions until I knew more, if I were you." He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. "What _do _you know about the Force, Erril?"

"The same as you, I think. That it's part of some ancient religion having to do with the Jedi, and the rebels having adopted 'May the Force be with you' as their motto," Kaven replied. "The Chistori, Hrakis, was some sort of Jedi, but he was pretty nasty compared to the Togruta on Bal'demnic. He mentioned the Force. He didn't bother saying anything _about _it, though, he just decided that I was going to join him. I really hope I don't bump into him again," he added, mostly to himself.

"Did anyone see you coming to Coruscant?"

"The usual thousands, but Sutler's ship is pretty normal for its make-I don't think any of those thousands were in a position to care. It's just another Republic ship in the New Republic capital."

"Hm. You might still have a chance to access the Republic archives. You won't get far without the proper codes, but you might still be able to get something on the Jedi themselves, or on this Force," Jan told him.

"That might be a good place to start. I'll do it while I've still got the chance." A thought hit Kaven and he asked, "Jan. Remember that mind trick I was teaching you?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"It's not just some useless little thing to play around with. I found out just how useful it can be. If you get in trouble, or cornered anywhere, you may have to use it."

Jan's expression was doubtful. "If I get desperate, I'll try it," he said. "But you know it doesn't work on everybody. You can't rely on it."

Kaven shook his head. "I know. I was lucky on Infel, but that's not likely to last."

"No." His brother reached into his jacket and brought out a holoprojector. He handed it to Kaven. "Here. I'm not the one with a price on his head, so I'll try to get what information I can and get back to you. In the meantime, you'd better make for the Outer Rim or something. Ord Mantell, Ithor, Tatooine-someplace safe. I'll be in touch."

Kaven slipped it into the pocket of his tunic. "Thanks. I'll try to stay inconspicuous, but when I find out what this is all about, whoever framed me _will _be sorry."

* * *

After a change into civilian clothing Kaven went back into the cockpit of Sutler's ship. He lifted off and started for the archives, still in shock over how much things had changed. Two hours ago he had been an imperial officer, and now he was a fugitive.

At least he had one person on his side, though he hoped for his brother's sake that Jan wouldn't get in over his head with this. It was a comforting thought, at least, that he wasn't the hotshot that his older brother was, and probably wouldn't attract too much attention. He had always been the quiet one.

Kaven touched down on the landing pad outside of the archives and disembarked. The place was quiet when he went in. Feeling a little self-conscious-Coruscant was no place for him to be-he asked the archivist where he could find anything out about the Jedi and their religion, and was directed to the appropriate place.

Hours later he was still looking through the databanks, searching for something more useful than what he had found. There were some historical records available to him, mainly giving the names of Jedi who had served in this battle or that, and the outcome of the battle or negotiations. Anything more specific than that, thus far, had been coded. Kaven was no slicer, but he was starting to wish that he was.

On the Force he had found something more interesting, but still generalized. The Force, in the religion of the Jedi, was a sort of energy that surrounded and penetrated all things, binding the galaxy together. The Jedi could use it to accomplish amazing feats, but how this was done was esoteric knowledge, inaccessible to public record.

_You _can _feel the Force, _the Chistori had said to him on Kuan. From what he had read, Kaven supposed the Force was just ambient biological power. Anyone could feel it-right?-but only the Jedi could use it. Nothing Hrakis had said was of any bearing, the pilot concluded. The Force had nothing to do with him. He was just an imperial officer, and one without any religious inclinations at all.

The important thing, he thought as he got up, was that he had been framed for a crime he didn't commit, and that he had a lot of things to find out before he could clear his name. Things that he wasn't going to find out by looking through a bunch of coded databanks.

Disappointed, he left the archives.

* * *

It was time to get off of Coruscant. He had already spent too much time there. But where to go? Ithor was out; it was a nice planet, but it was aligned with the New Republic. Ord Mantell was probably not the safest place to be. Kaven had been there before; it was covered in dusty spaceports and junkyards, and while it was a prime spot for exiles, travellers, and those who would rather stay anonymous, it also showed a certain tendency to crawl with bounty hunters. He didn't know whether any were after him or not, but it was better to avoid them altogether.

Jan had mentioned Tatooine, a fine place for anyone that didn't want to be found to go, and a place never aligned with anyone but the Hutts. The Empire had occupied it during the Civil War, but Tatooine governed itself, in its own lawless way.

Tatooine. Safe enough at the moment, but also under mob rule, a desert wasteland baked by two suns and inhabited by Tuskan Raiders and Krayt dragons. Kaven would have to think about it.

Where else? Felucia was neither Empire nor New Republic, but it was also ruled by the Zann Consortium. He didn't want to touch it. The plant life would kill him if the criminal syndicate didn't get to it first. Entralla? Out of the Republic's reach and back into Imperial Space. Too risky.

Kaven left the atmosphere and went back out into the comfortable darkness of space. It seemed very large now, the galaxy, now that he had no idea where to go. The thought that there was nowhere safe for him was deplorable to the pilot, who would much rather deal with the immediate dangers of dogfighting than this.

An idea came to him. There was a planet beyond Kamino, relatively close by but not within its system. It was called Caerul, and it was neutral, and it was inhabitable. Right now it seemed like the best choice.

He would be better off near Wild Space. Kaven prepared for the first of several hyperspace jumps.

* * *

Some time after he had emerged over Tatooine, the officer became aware of two ships trailing along behind him. He gunned the engines, and the strange ships accelerated as well, keeping pace with the one Kaven had stolen from Sutler.

On impulse Kaven took evasive action, and was glad for it a second later as the first ship fired on him. Out of defiance and irritation he returned fire, only grazing the top of it. "Bounty hunter," he muttered, swooping in for another attack, but bearing the second ship in mind. It hadn't fired yet, but it probably would at the first opening.

The first ship twirled to avoid the pilot's initial shots, but Kaven had expected that and accelerated, diving underneath it for a clear shot. Sutler's ship was no TIE Defender, though, and as such it was not quite fast enough to get a debilitating shot in before the bounty hunter's ship got out of the way.

The ship suddenly shook as something impacted it from the side. Kaven was shocked. _Either that one's good, or I'm having a slow day, _he thought, rolling to avoid another shot from the first ship. The second ship, who had shot him, had gone back to circling the fight.

Kaven, adjusting now to how the Republic ship moved, began another strafing run. This time he hit the more aggressive ship directly, and it exploded. Another impact came, this time from the back. "Now, you..." The pilot turned to face the second ship, but found that it was streaking away. Kaven tried to accelerate, but there was no response. "Well, damn." He checked for damages, and found that both the accelerators and the hyperdrive were non operational. If the second ship came streaking in at him now, he was going to have a hard time getting out in one piece.

He could go planetside, repair them, and get any replacement parts he needed. And quickly, before that ship came back into firing range.

Kaven turned the ship around and headed directly for Tatooine.

* * *

He landed in the Mos Eisley spaceport, in Bay Ninety-Four, and the moment he stepped out into the blazing heat of Tatooine the sheer arid dryness seemed to suck the moisture from his throat.

_Ugh, _he thought. _This is just one of many reasons to avoid this rock._

He went into the Mos Eisley cantina, stepping past a couple of Jawas sitting in the shade by the entranceway, looked at the wretched hive of scum and villainy within, and then went to the counter.

The bartender didn't even look up. "Whaddya want?"

"Elba water."

He took it and went to an empty table near the wall, in no mood to talk to anyone even if it had been a good idea in this place. He took a sip and thought about how his brother must be doing, and whether he was even on Coruscant anymore. Jan was young, but he was pretty capable. Kaven doubted he had reason to worry.

He finished the drink, poring over his course of action. Caerul was a lush planet covered in oceans, greenery, and volcanic tropical islands. They had been attacked several times by the CIS during the Clone Wars, but had fought them off each time without the Republic's aid. They had never been a part of the Empire, and they had no ties to the New Republic, either. They governed themselves.

As he was contemplating, he felt a shadow fall over him.

"Can I buy you a drink, handsome?" a woman asked. Kaven looked up to see a pleasant-looking, blue-complected Twi'lek standing over him. She held a glass in each hand.

A brief warning flashed in the pilot's mind. "You know, I'm usually the one that buys the drinks," he remarked. "I'm not used to accepting them."

"But it won't hurt just this time, will it?" She sat down across from him, pushing a glass his way. She was as tall as he was, and looked wiry and athletic. There were a few scars on her lekku, both left and right, and on her left arm as well. Now that he had a better look at her, he saw that she was more than pleasant-looking. To Kaven, who liked active and capable women, the bounty hunter was quite attractive.

He smiled at her disarmingly, aware that it was credits and not romance that she had in mind. "I guess not." He lifted the glass to his lips, but did not take a sip. Another warning had sounded in his mind-there was probably something in it. He put it back on the table. "It's a nice turn-about. It doesn't happen often enough."

"I guess I don't need to introduce myself," he said at length, after a thoughtful silence.

"No, Erril Kaven, you don't. But I'll introduce myself-Madeen, the bounty hunter," she replied. "The Remnant's got a substantial reward on you, you know."

"I know."

"Or if you'd like, I could take you back to the Republic," the Twi'lek continued, "I understand they've got a pretty good bounty on you as well."

Kaven had been starting to lean back in his chair, but at that he straightened. "What? Why would that rabble offer anything for my capture?" The rebels should have already known that he wouldn't give them any information.

The bounty hunter shrugged. "That's not my concern. But it seems the Republic is offering more than the Remnant right now, so to the Republic you'll go. Come on-I've got a ship waiting."

He didn't move.

She leaned forward. One hand was under the table. "I don't think I need to tell you where I have this blaster pointed."

"That would certainly hurt to be shot there," he agreed. "I'll come along with you, as I value my kneecaps." He waved a hand and said casually, "But you _really _want to let me go."

The Twi'lek shook her head. "No, I don't. I want the money." She studied him. "So, you really can use the Force. But you're no Jedi, and your mind tricks don't work on me. Come on."

They stood up, and he allowed her to direct him out of the cantina. _I've been using the Force? _he thought. _How could that be? I'm not a Jedi!_

"I can't seduce my way out, can I."

"No."

"I didn't think so."

* * *

He made no attempt to run once they had gotten out onto the streets of Mos Eisley. There was the gentle, insistent feel of the blaster against his lower back as they walked to warn against that, and so Kaven cooperated. For now.

She must have tracked him from Coruscant, somehow. He looked out at the street, where a group of Jawas were riding a Ronto, and a flash of white on a side street caught his eye. With some horror he saw that it was a group of Stormtroopers, who thankfully had not noticed the pair yet. There was an officer with them, a cold-looking man in a black uniform, but he was occupied with one of the troopers and had not chanced to look over.

"I really can't convince you to let me go my merry way?" he asked Madeen, who shook her head.

"You're worth a lot to me, flyboy," she replied. "Two hundred thousand creds."

Kaven's eyes searched the street for anything that he could use. There was a line of speeder bikes parked up the street, about a hundred and thirty metres away, the Ronto with the Jawas, and a landspeeder whose owner was just climbing in. "Let me go," he said, "and I'll double that bounty. Maybe even triple it, with the trouble I'll give the Republic. Then you can catch me and bring me in."

"Tempting, but no."

He and Madeen were walking into a dangerous situation. She was going to take him to the Republic, but if that officer and those Stormtroopers spotted them, things could get tense. It was Mos Eisley; things could escalate.

Kaven held his breath as they passed by the side street with the Stormtroopers, and let it out again when they passed unnoticed. They were catching up to the Ronto by now, and the pilot had an idea.

Mentally apologizing to the Jawas, Kaven kicked a stone at the Ronto as they drew abreast of it, just hard enough to hurt. Angrily the beast reared, and the surprised Jawas grabbed at its reins. It shook its head and the small aliens swung around, nearly crashing into each other.

"_Utinni!_"

The beings around them scattered to get out of the Ronto's way, and Madeen turned her head at the commotion. Seizing the opportunity, the officer took hold of the Twi'lek's wrist and twisted it, pointing the barrel of the blaster elsewhere. The two grappled, and Kaven found the wiry bounty hunter to be surprisingly strong. Several wild shots from the blaster struck a nearby building and the ground in front of them, throwing up small spurts of sand. The shots further incited the Ronto, who was starting to run for it, carrying the two cursing Jawas with it.

The commotion attracted the attention of the officer and the Stormtroopers, who took in the sight of the panicking Ronto and Jawas with some exasperation. The air of exasperation faded when they saw the officer grappling with the bounty hunter.

Kaven heard clearly: "That man. That's the one we're looking for."

The group started toward them, blaster rifles held across their bodies in the customary position. The officer, too, was reaching for the blaster pistol at his hip.

Madeen was aware of the troopers approaching. "No!" she exclaimed. "That's-my-bounty!"

The Twi'lek grunted as Kaven suddenly threw her unceremoniously into a pile of crates. Turning on his heel, the pilot ran for it. Behind him, the Stormtroopers broke into a run as well. "_Halt!_" one of them shouted.

When the pilot only ran faster the officer said, "Set your blasters to stun. The Empire wants this one alive."

Blaster shots threw up little geysers of sand at his feet as Kaven leapt gratefully onto one of the speeder bikes and roared away. A Jawa yelped and jumped out of the way as the officer sped by, only to retreat further as the Stormtroopers flew by on their own appropriated vehicles.

The small Jawa shook its fist at the retreating group, shouting after them.

* * *

Half an hour later they were racing over the desert sands, Kaven dodging and weaving in front of them. Four of the five troopers remained, as well as the officer; one unfortunate Stormtrooper had been sniped by the pilot and was probably still lying in an unconscious heap at the base of a sand dune. Kaven had set his blaster pistol to stun-they were imperial troops, and he was still loyal to the Empire.

They were entering the Jundland Wastes. He felt something-the Force warning him, he supposed now-and swerved left. A shot hit the sand. Kaven turned in his seat and shot another of the troopers. The man slumped sideways off of the speeder bike, which crashed headfirst into a rock wall as the group turned right.

Suddenly another shot came from above, narrowly missing the pilot. He looked up hurriedly. _Not Tuskan Raiders, _he thought, groaning. He switched the setting on his blaster.

A trio of howling Sand People standing on the canyon lip raised their gaffi sticks above their heads and shook them threateningly, while a fourth prepared to take another shot. Kaven accelerated, hoping to leave them behind and let the troopers deal with them.

There was a cry from behind him-one of the Tuskans-and a woman's voice shouting, amid more blaster shots. It sounded like a real battle royal behind him, now that Madeen had apparently caught up and joined in the fray, but Kaven didn't bother to look back. Four Tuskans, six imperials (initially), and a bounty hunter, all out to get him at the same time-could his luck get any better?

_Now if you start thinking like that, it's only going to get worse, _he chided himself, navigating the obstacle course of rocks and fallen boulders without slowing.

Gradually the sounds of battle slipped further and further away, and once he had left them behind, Kaven turned again and started for Mos Eisley. He reached the spaceport without particular incident and hopped off the speeder bike once he had arrived at Bay hadn't liked Tatooine before, he thought as he went to check the parts that he needed to fix the accelerators, but now it was _officially _on his list of the top ten planets in the galaxy he'd rather not visit on a pleasure trip.

He checked the damages to the ship, checking over his shoulder all the while, and found that he had what was needed for the hyperdrive, but unless he wanted to stick around long enough to get the right parts from the Jawas or a junk shop, he would have to jury-rig the accelerators until he had gotten to a safer place to repair them entirely.

He looked over his shoulder again. Madeen and the others were likely still in the desert, either fighting Tuskans, womp rats, krayt dragons, or each other, but these days Kaven wasn't about to rely on his luck. He got to work.

* * *

It was hours after the fight with the Tuskans in the Jundland Wastes that Madeen returned to Mos Eisley, grubby and sore. One lekku still stung where a blaster bolt had grazed it, and her shoulder ached from the spill into the sand she had taken when a Sand Person had risen up in front of her bike suddenly, swinging his gaderfii. That one was womp rat food now, but he had kept her from catching up with her quarry. Frustrating.

All in all, the bounty hunter was ready to stun Erril Kaven on sight and drag him back to her ship. Two hundred thousand was good money, and she would not be turned away, no matter how slippery the pilot was. He wouldn't get a chance to pull something like he had with the Ronto a second time.

The imp officer and his men were probably still out in the Wastes, fighting off the band of Sand People that had attacked them. There had been six there by the time Madeen had righted her overturned speeder bike and roared off.

She drew the blaster at her hip and went into Bay Ninety-Four. The pilot was there, kneeling by the engines of the Republic ship he had stolen, and he looked up the very second she entered, probably sensing her in the Force. Immediately the human was up and moving, making a run for the gangplank and leaping out of the way of her shot. The Twi'lek ran forward, firing on him, but the gangplank went up before she had a clear shot at him, and then the ship was rising into the air and blasting off.

"Frang!"

Madeen glanced down at the dirt at her feet, saw the tracking device she had attached to his ship lying there, and repeated her sentiment.

* * *

_That was too close, _Kaven thought, sighing as he entered the darkness of space. Tatooine was much more pleasant from there. He began to enter the hyperspace coordinates. There was a brief twinkle as Madeen's ship came hurtling out of the atmosphere, and then the blue swirls of hyperspace surrounded him. He sighed and sat back in his chair. Unless she had read his mind and knew where he was going, he had lost the bounty hunter for the time being.

Now that things had calmed down somewhat, Kaven thought back to their exchange in the cantina. _I can use the Force, _he thought, raking a hand through his hair. _But...that means that I'm..._

_I'm __**not **__a Jedi. But I can do the things they do, or at least I could if I were taught._

He was capable of a Jedi mind-trick, and he could apparently feel things-_in the Force_-sometimes, especially if they were dangerous. Hrakis' reaction to him started to make a little more sense. Kaven realized that the Chistori's offer to 'teach him the ways of the dark side' would not have just involved indoctrinating him into his weird little religion, it would have meant him actually learning how to perform the stunts that Jedi did. Still, whatever the 'dark side' was, it sounded ominous; Kaven didn't have much to work from, but compared to Midea Locke the Chistori had not seemed very Jedi-like at all. He had felt much different.

Other Force-sensitives could feel him, but he didn't know how to hide himself from them. With the New Republic-always affiliated with Jedi-after him, that might make things difficult. He hoped that he and Jan could get things sorted out, and soon.

At that another realization hit.

_Jan, _he thought, _you can use the Force, too._

* * *

The ship emerged from hyperspace hours later to find the blue and green jewel of Caerul floating directly before it. The pilot entered the atmosphere, and deep blue seas and lush green islands raced by beneath him as he streaked toward the larger of Caerul's two continents.

The Caerulians were a peaceable lot, and very careful to preserve the natural beauty of their planet. There were no industrialized areas that Kaven could see, and even the spaceport he flew towards looked like a series of forest parks and boardwalks, with great brown lots marked for landing. Their villages were in a similar style; the one near the landing bay the pilot touched down on was built on the shores of a very large cove, and consisted of thatched huts, boardwalks, and docks that stretched far out into the water.

He disembarked from the ship and a cool, salty-smelling breeze touched his face. He sighed. Caerul was a welcome change from Tatooine and Coruscant. He liked beaches and ocean, but right now, the pilot decided, the best thing about Caerul was that it was relatively unknown by the galaxy at large. Everything else was just a bonus.

He stretched, and then started down the boardwalk to try to arrange for some accommodations.

* * *

It was a week later that Jan contacted him. Kaven, sitting with his elbows resting on the sill of a narrow horizontal window overlooking the beach, turned and switched the holoprojector on. A pale holograph of his brother appeared. Jan's leave was apparently over, or something close to it-he was back in uniform.

"It's good to see you've made it out of the Core all right," the lieutenant said.

"I'm good at that kind of thing. Did you find anything out?"

"Not a lot. They've been keeping a close eye on me-probably to see if treachery runs in the family."

"Very funny, Jan."

"In any case, I haven't had the chance to start a proper investigation. What I do know, though, is whatever was included in those secrets you supposedly divulged was enough to let an entire planet slip out of the Empire's grasp." The pilot groaned. "You see the importance of this. We really _are _the Imperial Remnant...and we just got smaller. Erril, you'd mentioned overseeing some mining operation on Bal'demnic. Cortosis. Where was it being sent?"

"I don't know," Kaven admitted. "That information was classified, even to me. But I do know what faction it was being taken to...the Reborn."

"The Reborn? What do you know about them?"

"They're using cortosis."

"Really, Erril."

"That's all I know."

Jan crossed his arms thoughtfully. "They're infantry," he said after a moment's consideration. "Or so it sounds-there's hardly anything on them...or rather, what I have access to is limited. They might be Force-users."

Kaven brightened. "Imperial Jedi?"

His younger brother shook his head. "Dark Jedi, I think, is the term."

The pilot's hopes faded. Dark Jedi were beings like Hrakis. He wanted to be taught how to use his powers, but not from people like _that._ He regarded his brother quietly, wondering if he ought to tell Jan about his Force sensitivity or not. After some thought, he decided not to. They were in a delicate situation, and if any Dark Jedi got near Jan, or found out about him, they'd be able to tell that he was capable of using the Force, and then convert him...or kill him.

Kaven was not about to lose another brother.

The pilot pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jan, I want you to promise me something," he said.

"What?"

"Don't try to find out anything else about the Reborn." _We don't want to attract their attention. _"Just concentrate on the Kuan incident, all right? The Reborn aren't...they're not important, whoever they are."

Jan stared at him. "You know something that you haven't mentioned, don't you?"

Kaven crossed his arms. "I just had the bad luck of meeting a Dark Jedi face-to-face. They're bad news. And if the Reborn are Dark Jedi, then _they're _bad news, so just leave them alone."

"You need to worry about yourself, not me."

"Promise me?"

"Erril-"

"_Promise me, Jan?_"

"I promise," his brother said. "And don't bother giving me some speech about not doing anything questionable or attracting attention to myself; I'm well aware of the situation, believe me. _Well _aware." The apparition looked over. "I'll have to end this now. Goodbye, Erril."

The image winked out. Kaven sat down again with a sigh.

* * *

The imperial pilot was sitting on the beachfront staring out at the ocean when he felt someone approaching him. He looked over and saw a pair of bare orange feet. There was a colourful shell anklet around the left ankle. His gaze drifted upward, to shapely orange legs and curvy, unquestionably female torso clad in a scanty swimsuit, and the day suddenly got a lot brighter. Smiling in pleasant surprise, he looked up into the lovely Togruta's face.

A green and grey Chistori face looked back down at him, batting long eyelashes grotesquely, and all of Kaven's blossoming attraction shattered along with his hopes and dreams.

He jerked awake at that point, and found himself lying on a cot in the little hut he had been staying in for the past two weeks.

_I've got to get off this planet, _he thought, sitting up. The image of the dinosaur-faced Togruta was still with him, and he shivered despite the tropical heat.

He went outside and walked across the docks, going back to the beach. It was very hot outside that day, and even the Caerulians were opting to walk instead of buzzing about with their little blue wings. He settled down on a huge piece of driftwood that was shaded by the trees leaning out over it, and sat with his chin cupped in the palms of his hands.

In the time he'd spent on Caerul, Kaven had tried to discover the Force for himself, but he was no closer to being Jedilike than he had ever been. The planet was teeming with life, anyone could tell that much-or _did _it take a Force-user?-and he had gotten a little better at guessing whether a life form was nearby, and how many there were. He dared to hope that he was learning how to sense things, but it could have been luck and coincidence as much as anything.

_I need a teacher, _Kaven thought. _But the only ones who can do this kind of thing are the Jedi, and they're part of the blasted Republic._

Or _were _there those like himself, without Jedi affiliations, that had managed to learn how to use the Force properly?

If that were true, were they good, or at least decent-or were they like Dark Jedi?

If he wanted to learn from a Jedi, he thought glumly, he would have to defect to the Republic. Not a chance. He had, did, and would continue to serve the Empire.

He looked down at a small flat stone lying on the sand under his dangling feet, and stretched a hand out toward it. Apparently he was capable of telekinesis-time to try it. He concentrated on it, and when nothing happened he focused harder, and harder, until his head started to pound.

The stone began to wriggle. Infused with hope now, Kaven redoubled his concentration. _Come on, lift up. Lift up. Lift up, _he thought, trying to mentally command it to rise.

It began to rise a little. Excited now, the pilot moved his hand up a little, as if he were showing the movements he wanted it to make.

The rock flipped over, and a large bug scuttled out from its hole beneath it. It disappeared into the foliage.

Kaven sagged, his hopes dashed.

* * *

Over the next few days Kaven tried time and time again to move things using the Force, but his efforts only yielded frustration. He simply did not know enough about it, and had no foundation from which to work. He could sense things better now; not great, not good, but better. He needed a teacher.

Currently the pilot was walking away from the sweltering beachfront, out of the sun and into the trees. There was another village there-or was it part of the dock-village? It was hard to tell here-built among and underneath the trees. The shade was not much help against the heat wave.

Kaven stopped on a stone bridge spanning a wide, deep river some five metres below, looking down into the cool waters. He was barefoot, his shirt open to the sternum, and yet he still sweltered. He leaned on the stones that formed a low wall on either side of the bridge. A light sheen of sweat shone on his skin, and his shirt clung to his body. Even Bal'demnic had not been as hot. Even the Caerulians were complaining about the heat wave. There were two nearby, sitting on a bench in the shade of a thick tree, chatting.

The water looked so inviting. Without thinking, the pilot climbed up onto the low wall and stood looking down at the river. There was a little breeze coming off of the water, almost too slight to be felt from where he stood. He moaned. "Ohh...I'm so..._hot_..."

He toppled off of the bridge, landing in the water with a great splash. From where they sat the two Caerulians jumped, flapping their wings once or twice in surprise. They exchanged a look.

"Those gambling debts are destroying the youth of today," one said, sadly.

* * *

Through the cool, clear waters of the river Kaven swam, letting himself be swept along on the gentle current and occasionally flailing at a fish that tried to nibble his toes. He stayed underwater as much as he could, only surfacing to get another lungful of air before diving under again. The water felt delightful on his overheated skin. He wasn't sure how far he had swum before something caught at the back of his shirt, bringing him to a swinging halt. He tugged, and whatever it was tugged back hard, and the pilot found himself being yanked backwards toward the riverbank. He thrashed, but whatever had caught him was insistent, and a moment later he surfaced, looking straight up into the large grey eyes of a Caerulian.

"Oh, hey," said the alien. "Is too bad-here I thought I caught one of de bigger fishes. But it's a human instead." He took Kaven's arm and hauled him up into the grass, then freed the hook from the back of his shirt. "But no matter." He suddenly plunged one thin blue arm into the river and brought it out again-with a wriggling fish in his hand. The pilot blinked.

The small leathery wings on his back flapping idly, the Caerulian got up and went to a trestle table a little further from the bank, and put the fish down, taking up a cleaver. There was a great chop. "You like fishes?" the alien asked.

"Uh, well enough," the human replied. He rose, wringing water from his shirt. "Look, I..."

"Den you can stay for lunch," the Caerulian replied cheerfully. "Mebbe you need de lunch, eh? You don't weigh much." He began to throw fish pieces into a cauldron that was suspended over a fire at the side, then glanced thoughtfully over his shoulder at the river. "You like eels?"

"_No!_" Kaven exclaimed, before he could stop himself.

"Den I won't catch any. This don't need any eel-seasoning anyway," the alien said, looking into the cauldron carefully as he stirred it. "This one's in harmony."

"There are eels in the river?"

"Yup, dey live around de river mouth, 'specially."

"Ugh!" The pilot wouldn't be swimming around the river mouth or the ocean shallows if he could help it, then.

"Ahah, you don't live de life aquatic, I see. Mebbe you prefer de air...in a ship, mebbe...as a pilot?" The fisherman grinned. "Mebbe from de Empire?"

"How do you know that?"

"Is lots of things. How you stand, how you talk, how you dress when you're not imitating de fishes..."

"What?" Kaven looked down at himself. He didn't look too imperial at the moment, in his opinion. "You've seen me before?"

"Yup. I come down de beach sometimes." The Caerulian tasted the gumbo. "Ahh. This one's gotten special, with one normal-looking little fish."

The pilot ran a hand through his wet hair as the alien took a pair of bowls from a stack of six and began to ladle out the mixture, uncertain of what to say. This fisherman was the most peacefully eccentric being he had ever encountered in his life. He seemed to honestly expect nothing of Kaven. The officer wasn't used to that-someone always wanted something of him.

"Uh, th-thanks," he said, when the fisherman pushed a bowl into his hand.

The alien fisherman took a spoonful of fish stew and nodded. "Yes, this one's special. Mebbe it was de one little fish that tipped the scales. Go figure."

Kaven sat down across from him with the bowl in his lap, regarding him warily. "That wasn't a convoluted riddle of some sort, was it?" he asked at last.

The Caerulian grinned again. "You think the fish is like you, mebbe?"

"Chopped to bits and in a cauldron? I should hope not." He took a spoonful of the stew. "You just seem very...Zen about your soup. It's, ah, good, by the way."

"But dere's an aftertaste you don't like, yes?"

"Well, there's something in it that seems off-something that I'm not used to," Kaven said, not wanting to be rude. "Maybe it's a species difference. It is good, though, really."

The Caerulian held up a blue finger. "Something missing or something dere that shouldn't be dere?"

"Something missing," the pilot told him.

"Ah, de fish should have been prepared a bit more, mebbe with more seasonings, mebbe sent back out to grow a bit more, eh?"

"It seemed fully grown to me." At that the fisherman winked at him, and then began to eat his gumbo peacefully. Kaven had the odd feeling that something was off about him, aside from his insightful view of seafood soup, and said, "Who are you?"

"Me? Just a fisherman, and hermit sometimes. You think I'm a weirdo, mebbe? I think too much, give de soup more meaning than it deserve?"

The officer shook his head. "Do you know anything...about...the Force?"

"De Force is like de universal sea, keeping de galaxy together. I know Jedi, yes. But if you think I am one-nah." The fisherman shook his head. "I am what I am." At Kaven's expression of dismay he said, "But you don't know what _you _are, eh? You could be like that little fish."

Kaven's expression didn't change. "Is there such a thing as imperial Jedi?"

"There are Dark Jedi, but dey aren't imperial Jedi. There are no imperial Jedi." The pilot sagged. "But _apolitical _Jedi, yes. Dey exist."

The young officer smiled, hopeful now. "Do you know any?"

The fisherman shrugged. "I hear tell of dem sometimes. You'll have to go fishing for one."

Kaven's smile faded again. "Where could I find one?"

"_There's _de question." Thoughtfully, the Caerulian finished off the gumbo at a gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I hear there's someone on Nar Shaddaa who might know somebody who know somebody, and eventually you might find your neutral Jedi." He snapped his fingers. "Mira de Hutt, maybe."

"Not the _Hutts?_" Kaven liked the vile gangsters about as much as the next person.

"Last I hear, she live on Nar Shaddaa. She can tell you a lot of things."

The pilot frowned. Nar Shaddaa crawled with scum and villainy, not to mention bounty hunters. Still, if it gave him any hope of finding a Jedi unaffiliated with the Republic, he would talk to this Hutt. "_There's _a sea bristling with sharks," he said.

The alien merely smiled and ladled out another bowl of seafood gumbo, waiting for the pilot to come to his own conclusion.

"I'll do it," Kaven said with finality, standing up. "Thank you. Yes. I'll go see this Hutt."

* * *

After the human had left, the fisherman watched his essence in the Force drift further away.

"Not a bad kid," he said to himself, lifting a hand. The cutting board on which he had cleaned and gutted the fish rose from the table and floated into his hand. "Needs to meditate more. Not up on fish. But not a bad kid."

Whistling cheerfully, he went to clean off the board.


	5. Chapter 4: In Search of a Jedi

**Chapter 4:**

**The Search for a Jedi**

_Caerul. A lush tropical planet located in Wild Space, just beyond the Kamino System._

_One week later._

Two figures ran through the rainforest, startling birds and insects into flight and leaving trails of bent leaves and broken twigs behind them. One figure, a human man with dark hair, ran ahead, while the other trailed behind him, nearly caught up.

"Leave me alone!"

"Stop running!"

Sensing some danger up ahead, Kaven abruptly turned right. Seeing that the only clear path before him was full of colourful-and poisonous-amphibians, he scrambled up into a tree. He jumped onto a thick limb on the opposite side just in time to hear the impact of the treated dart as it slammed into the trunk.

At times like this, Kaven really wished that he had a blaster with him.

"Will you just give _up _already!" he shouted at Madeen, who was busy reloading. The Twi'lek finished and pointed the dart gun at him, and he ducked back behind the tree. His back pressed against the thick bole. "This bounty's not worth it!"

"Two hundred and fifty thousand credits!" the alien woman called back.

"That's only fifty thousand more! Let it ripen a little!"

"Fifty thousand more in four weeks? If you're this important to them, flyboy, I'll have no problem wringing my money's worth out of them when I bring you back!" Madeen stepped around the side of the trunk, rifle in her arms. Kaven sidled around the trunk, keeping the bole between himself and the bounty hunter. He had been a bare centimetre away from receiving a dart right in the side when she had shot at him on the beachfront an hour before. Only the Force had warned him in time to jerk away.

"Why are-" The Twi'lek fired, and Kaven caught a flash of the dart passing by his cheek, only centimetres away. He inhaled and moved away. "-why are those rebel scum so persistent about this!"

There was a clicking sound as she reloaded the weapon. "Said something about you being a Dark Jedi. I've _seen _Dark Jedi. You're not one of them," she said. "If you were, you'd have done something with the Force by now."

"How'd they know that?" The pilot climbed up a little higher, where there was more concealing foliage, and found a thick vine almost plastered to the tree branch. He tugged on it.

"That's not my problem-hey! Get back here!"

"I didn't hear you say _please, _schutta!" Kaven called, as he swung from the branch. He would have made it to his goal, if it weren't for the shot that tore the vine badly. It snapped under his weight, and he fell in a heap at the base of a tree. "Unf!"

Madeen leapt for him. "You're mine now, flyboy!"

The pilot's leg hooked her behind the heels and she fell onto the soil. She wasted no time, however, in lunging for him, and the two of them grappled for the second time. The bounty hunter was athletic and strong, but Kaven was completely recovered this time and managed to get an arm free. With some trouble he reached around to the back of her belt and opened the pouch where she kept the treated darts.

Immediately she realized what he was about. "No!" She reached for the dart gun, likely meaning to crack him in the head with it, and Kaven stabbed her in the side with the dart. She grabbed the rifle and raised it, and as she swung it the pilot thrust his hips and upper legs upward, bobbing her up and throwing her aim off. The butt of the weapon clipped his head, but the blow was a light one compared to what it would have been otherwise. He shoved her off of him, and she landed on her back at his feet. Before she could get her hands on him again Kaven scrambled to his feet and started off. Behind him Madeen rose to her feet, then fell to her knees, cursing. The tranquilizer was fast-acting, but it had been made for humans. The Twi'lek was slowed, but not unconscious. She forced herself to her feet and went after Kaven again.

* * *

Something was tickling the side of his forehead. Kaven reached up, and his fingers came away red. She must have hit him harder than he thought.

He emerged from the brush at the edge of the landing pad and jogged toward his ship, coming to a halt only to open the door. He put a hand on the side of the vessel as he caught his breath, and looked over when a slim blue figure stepped out of the trees.

Moving a little clumsily, Madeen unslung the dart gun from her shoulder. Kaven blew her a kiss and ran into the ship.

* * *

_That woman's going to chase me across the known universe if I don't get this mess cleared up soon, _Kaven thought, once he had gotten back out into the comfortable emptiness of space. He began to put in the hyperspace coordinates for Nar Shaddaa. _Or else my luck's going to run out and I'll wind up back with the rebels._

Neither option was acceptable. Though he disliked Hutts as a rule, the pilot would be willing to deal with one if it would give him a chance of learning from a Jedi that was non-partisan. Something told him that _that _kind of being was a rare one, and that he had better take every opportunity that he got.

The stars became long streaks, which coalesced into the blue-white swirl of hyperspace. Kaven sat back with his fingers interlaced behind his head, and thought: _Next time we meet I should just find her ship and blow it up, if it would slow her down any._ Another thought followed on the heels of that one. _Or maybe I'll do it just for fun._

* * *

"General Kordis, there has been no sign of Erril Kaven on Geonosis," Lieutenant Verdan reported. "We have searched all sectors. He is not here."

"Very well. You will continue your search on Rishi, and report back to me when you have concluded. I expect a thorough job this time, Lieutenant," Kordis replied. "Do not lose him again."

"Yes, sir," the officer said, a little sourly. "Might I inquire as to why Admiral Makar has ordered such a rigorous search for this man? He is only a pilot."

"The admiral's reasoning is his own. I would advise you to concentrate on the _objectives _of your mission, not the reasons. The sooner you find and capture Kaven, the easier that mission will be."

Verdan's lips thinned a little at that; he found it a waste of time to be chasing this man across the galaxy for reasons unknown, when he could be serving on any of the battlefronts against the Republic. His mission would have been over in the Jundland Wastes of Tatooine if it hadn't been for that Twi'lek; instead, he and the few Stormtroopers accompanying him had been ambushed by Tuskan Raiders and had had to fight their way out.

"Yes, sir." The officer kept his voice neutral. "Am I to proceed to Rishi immediately, then-or may I first make a side-trip to Nar Shaddaa? There are many valuable sources of information there."

"If those sources of information would ensure your success, Lieutenant, then you may."

"Thank you, General. They will."

* * *

_Gripe, what a rough place, _Kaven thought, leaping back out into the open air of Nar Shaddaa. From inside the cantina came the sound of hard fighting, and an Aqualish's voice rose above the clamour for a moment before being engulfed by the other noise. It sounded like a death-threat, but to the imperial pilot _anything _Aqualish said sounded like that.

There was a terrible noise from within, and Kaven threw himself to the ground just as a stool came hurtling out the window. _Shouldn't have opened my mouth, _the pilot decided, getting to his feet. _Figures there would be a cantina brawl the moment I mentioned Jedi._ He would resolve to be more subtle in the future, and much less candid; with Admiral Makar it was an advantage, but here it could just get him killed.

On that note, it was best to leave before those crazy Rodians noticed him missing.

Wishing that he knew who it was, exactly, that had flipped his life upside-down, the officer beat a hasty retreat from the cantina and its grounds, unmindful of a blue-skinned figure walking along one of the walkways to the cantina.

* * *

Upon hearing the noise in the cantina, the blue-skinned woman thought: _Maybe...now's not the time for a drink._

She jumped a little and redoubled that resolution when a stool came flying out of a window, hit the walkway above, bounced, and disappeared into the city levels below.

At the sound of footsteps, Madeen looked up in time to see a human man running along the walkway above her. Finding something somehow familiar in his run, the Twi'lek gazed after him.

Then it hit her.

Erril Kaven. Right here on Nar Shaddaa.

The bounty hunter grinned, unable to believe her luck.

* * *

Unaware of the bounty hunter following him, Kaven went far away from the violent cantina and into one that looked considerably safer. This one had some sort of Caerulian theme to it, judging by the wooden floors and beams and the decidedly tropical decor, though the bartender was a human. The pilot went to him.

"Where can I find I find Mira the Hutt?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know any Mira the Hutt," the man replied, glancing up from the glass he was polishing. For some reason, Kaven got the feeling that the man was lying.

"Tell me where I can find Mira the Hutt," he said, waving a hand and hoping to mind-trick the bartender into telling him.

"H-huh? She's...got a cantina, called the Frozen Nebula," the human said, a look of confusion crossing his face. "It's-it's-" He shook his head as if to toss off the effect of the trick. "-what? Yes. Frozen Nebula. She's always there."

Kaven flashed a smile at him. "Now, where is it?"

"It's-"

"Don't worry about the address," a female voice said, at his elbow. Horror-struck, the pilot turned his head to look at Madeen, who put a blue arm around his shoulders. "We can find our way there on our own."

She tightened her grip. "Can't we, Erril?"

Kaven glared at her. "Small galaxy."

"Go figure." They turned around, and she began guiding him toward the door, half-leading, half-carrying him. Once they were out of earshot, the bounty hunter leaned closer. "You've been an imperial pain in the backside_, _flyboy," she murmured. "But I have you now. And you're going to Lieutenant Sutler on the double. Now _march._"

The officer cursed. "_Sutler? _He's here?"

"Right, and he'll be delighted to get you back."

Kaven grasped at any viable options available. "So there's no chance _at all _of seducing my way out?"

"No. We're going to the lieutenant."

"Let's not and say we did."

"Let's go, and get the bounty."

"Is he still sore about my stealing his ship?"

"He'd like to strangle you. _I'd _like to strangle you."

"You can't trust those Republic scum to give you the bounty you deserve," Kaven said. "They'll probably cut your pay and claim the rest in the name of liberty or some other democratic excuse."

"I suppose _you're _willing to pay more for your freedom, then?"

"I'm saying that the Empire isn't cheap. The rebels are offering two hundred and fifty thousand credits. You've been chasing me; is it worth that much, Madeen? You said yourself that I've been a pain in the backside, so surely I'm worth more than that. You deserve more than two hundred and fifty for catching me."

"_I'll _say."

"But the thing is," Kaven continued, "the _Empire _knows how much of a pain I can be. Those rebels? Not a clue. I'm willing to bet that the Empire would pay double or even triple that. Probably more. I'm one of their best pilots."

"All right, flyboy," she said, and his heart leapt, "Here's a deal for you. I'll take you to the Republic, I get the money, you escape, I find you, and you give me the difference. After that, I leave you alone. Then we're both happy."

"No!"

"No? All right." Madeen took a holoprojector out of a satchel at her belt and activated it. A tiny holographic figure of Lieutenant Sutler appeared. "Lieutenant? Wait for me at Djanga Warehouse. I've got Kaven with me."

A thin smile traced the holograph's features. "Excellent. Your payment will be ready by the time you arrive."

The bounty hunter nodded and switched the thing off. Kaven said, "Madeen, if you take me to Sutler, it'll be my hands around his neck."

"Then let's hope that will be _after _I get paid."

* * *

The lieutenant and a dozen of his men were waiting for them when Madeen and Kaven walked in. When Sutler caught sight of the pilot he smiled in a way that was not at all nice and said, "Erril Kaven, you're quite the escape artist. However, you will not escape a second time."

"Lieutenant Sutler." Kaven's bitter expression faded, and he returned a cold smile of his own. "Your ship flies beautifully."

The Republic officer's smile dropped off of his face. Stiffly he turned to Madeen and said, "Here is your pay. Three hundred thousand credits, as promised."

Kaven looked toward the ceiling as they made their transaction, closing his eyes and sighing. _Oh, Roon, Kore...anybody, _he thought._ Now's the time for a heroic rescue. But it's not happening. My luck doesn't go that way._

Whistling, Madeen gave the pilot a little wave as she passed him, and left the building.

The pilot scowled, turned his head, and found that Lieutenant Sutler had advanced on him. "And now you're _mine_," the older man said.

* * *

"Now, _you _seem familiar," said a man's voice, once Madeen had left the warehouse. "Where have we met before? Tatooine, perhaps?"

The Twi'lek's whistle died in mid-note. Standing before her with a blaster pistol in hand was an imperial officer in a black uniform, accompanied by a dozen Stormtroopers, all of whom had their weapons trained on her.

She raised her hands in a show of no weapons. "Good choice," said the officer. He was dark-haired and quite good-looking, in a cold and statuesque kind of way. There was a thin horizontal burn-scar high on his left cheekbone, from where a blaster shot had grazed it in the fight with the Tuskan Raiders. It stood out keenly against his pale skin.

"I just happened to see you entering the warehouse," he said, "and could not help but notice that you were with someone-just the man we're looking for, as it is. I imagine he's still inside."

She nodded. "There are Republic soldiers in there," she said.

The officer's eyes narrowed. "How many?"

"Twelve, plus their officer."

The officer looked to the Stormtroopers, and nodded toward the warehouse. Immediately two broke away from the group and went to either side of the door, glancing in. One confirmed Madeen's answer with a nod. "There _are _thirteen rebels, sir," she said.

Another trooper leaned closer to the man. "Your orders, sir?" he asked.

"You four, go around the back of the building and flank them. And you two-take the Twi'lek back to the ship," the imperial officer ordered, gesturing to the troopers around them. "The rest of you follow me. Do not attack until I give the signal."

"What the-hey! I'm not with those rebels!" Madeen protested, as two Stormtroopers seized her arms. "I was just on a job-mmph, prg-"

"Now then," said Lieutenant Verdan, as the troopers dragged the bounty hunter away, "let's get our traitor back."

* * *

"Where is my ship?" Sutler hissed. Within a few bare minutes Kaven had managed to rub him the wrong way, and though he knew that the imperial pilot was deliberately goading him, his mood was growing blacker by the second. The enmity between them was almost tangible.

"I dumped it on Tatooine and sold the scrap to the Jawas," Kaven told him, "Then bought a ship that didn't resemble a glorified discus-"

He shut his mouth with a clack and gave Sutler a look of pure acid as the Republic officer raised his hand threateningly. Instead of backhanding him, however, the older man lowered his arm. "This time," he said softly, "none of your Jedi mind-tricks will save you."

"Now that's not very Republican of you." Kaven met his gaze directly. "I know why you wanted my blood now. You know that I can use the Force like your Jedi, and since I'm an imperial officer, I must be a _Dark _Jedi. After all, everyone that's part of the Empire must be evil..."

"Lieutenant Sutler, sir!"

Sutler turned his head. Sensing something, Kaven turned his as well, and saw a group of six Stormtroopers entering the warehouse, led by an officer with a thin slash on his cheek. It was the same man from Tatooine, though the pilot didn't remember him having had the scar before. It was rather noticeable.

"Imperials," the Republic officer said, turning to them fully. One of his men kept his blaster trained on Kaven, lest the pilot try anything. "What do you want?"

"Rebels," the imperial officer returned conversationally, though not without disdain. "I should think it's obvious. Erril Kaven-he comes with us."

"I'm afraid not, Lieutenant," said Sutler. "He is our prisoner, and he is in the hands of the Republic now."

"A Republican in the hands of the Republic?"

"I _hate _the Republic!" Kaven snapped, before Sutler could reply. "I'm not a traitor, I'm an imperial officer!"

"Then by rights this man belongs to the Empire," the scar-faced officer said. "Surrender him." No one moved. "Or we take him by force."

Kaven, in the very uncomfortable position of being directly between these two factions, moved a few steps to one side, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire. A sense of danger was growing all around him, and he knew instinctively that a battle was coming. The rebel soldier watching him kept his weapon trained on him the whole time, though his eyes kept flickering to where the officers were engaging in their battle of wills.

"Lieutenant, they have us surrounded," a rebel said. Four more Stormtroopers had just come through the back entrance, blaster rifles up.

Sutler didn't reply. Instead, he and the imperial lieutenant stared at each other, hazel eyes locked to green. Kaven had to admit, he was impressed by the young imperial's gutsiness; they were outnumbered, but it looked like the man was gaining a foothold on the situation. However, the pilot was unsure of which side was the frying pan and which was the fire; Sutler could get nasty in the interrogation chamber, but Kaven was familiar with imperial techniques and he had the feeling that this officer wouldn't be much kinder.

On the other hand, Sutler hated him, and _this _officer didn't seem to feel one way or another. He could still be charmed...maybe.

Contrary to the beliefs of some, Kaven could be very charismatic when he wanted to be.

"Maybe you should just hand me over to them, Lieutenant," he said to Sutler. "You're surrounded. You don't want to lose any of your men. I doubt he does, either."

The Republic officer didn't reply. Kaven knew what he was thinking, though, and it went something like this: _If I turn him over, the Empire gets its Dark Jedi back._

Kaven didn't know much about Dark Jedi, but judging by Hrakis, they were _powerful. _Even one could make a difference. The Remnant had a precarious hold on the Outer Rim, and one Force-user might be enough to tip the balance.

But Kaven had no training, no experience, no lightsaber. He couldn't tip _anything _at his level, but the rebels didn't know that and he didn't want to admit it.

Sutler looked at him, then back to the imperial officer. The pilot realized that the most beneficial path for the lieutenant would be to just shoot him; that way, there was no chance of him being one of the Empire's Dark Jedi, even if it meant sacrificing what little knowledge Kaven had of the Reborn, whatever they really were. Despite himself, the young man swallowed nervously.

The imperial officer straightened. Suddenly Kaven had a notion, one of the kind of impulses that had saved him from becoming interstellar dust so many times in the past, and he threw himself to the floor just in time to hear the man say, "Shoot them."

At the same time he heard Sutler say, vaguely, "Shoot him," but the command was lost in the sound of blaster fire and the alarms going off in Kaven's own head as the Force screamed danger all around.

He dragged himself as quickly as he could across the floor, managing to get behind a large crate without getting shot, and sat up, drawing his blaster. He leaned out a little and, knowing quite well whose side he was on, shot a rebel in the back.

A flash of movement in the corner of his eye made him turn, and he whipped around to see a Stormtrooper almost right next to him, blaster rifle pointed at him. "Stop right there," the man said. "Drop your weapon."

"I-I'm on your side," Kaven said.

"We don't know that for sure. Drop your weapon."

"I'm no rebel. Let me help you," he said with a wave of his hand, a little desperate now.

The attempt at mind-tricking the man failed, though when he spoke he seemed hesitant and a little muddled. "We...can't tell whose side you're really on. You're wanted for treason..."

From the other side of the crates Lieutenant Sutler yelled, "Damn it, where is that pilot!"

"Behind those crates, sir!" came an answering call.

"Get him!"

"Yes, sir!"

Both frightened and furious now, Kaven looked back to the Stormtrooper. Very aware that Sutler wanted him dead, he let the man have the full force of whatever it was boiling inside him. "I am an imperial officer, I am _on your side, you _will _believe me, now FIGHT FOR ME!_"

Obediently, the trooper turned and began to fire on the rebel soldiers approaching their cover. The pilot was stunned; he hadn't known that a subject could be duped into protecting him, and hadn't believed that it would work. It was the mind-trick again, but it had been stronger this time, as if it had fed off of his anger to gain power. This was not a flip of the will, but all-out domination; somehow he had taken control of the man.

Kaven was thrilled at the discovery, but some part of him balked at the realization that he could override another being's free will.

"Get me out of here."

"Yes, sir." Providing cover fire for the young officer, the Stormtrooper escorted him to the back entrance. "Here. It'll be safer out there, sir."

Finding no other soldiers of any kind outside, Kaven slipped out the back way and ran off into the night, with the intention of getting as far away as he could, as fast as he could.

* * *

"Go! _Go!_" Sutler shouted, running amid a rain of blaster bolts from the imperial troops, who had not taken long to arrange the situation to their advantage. He and the remaining soldiers-nine now, including him-made it outside alive. What had become of Kaven, he did not know; the last he had seen, the pilot had been scrambling for the back exit, under the protection of one of the Stormtroopers.

He was in the Remnant's hands now. They had their Dark Jedi back.

Once they were at a safer distance Sutler turned, blaster pistol in hand, but none of the imperials emerged from the warehouse. They all must have left from the back.

The lieutenant nodded to two of his men, who went to check.

* * *

"How is it that the man has escaped!" Lieutenant Verdan demanded. "What did you do, let him go?"

The trooper he had addressed managed to look red-faced and abashed even despite his helmet. "I...I think I did, sir."

The officer folded his arms and waited for an answer.

"I...He said he was on our side. I didn't believe him, but then he did something and I _wanted _to believe him-" Aware of the stares from the other Stormtroopers and the pit that he was digging himself into, the man stumbled onwards, "-I wasn't going to let him go. I was going to take him prisoner. But then he did something..."

Verdan leaned forward. "Did _what, _trooper?"

"I, I don't know, sir. He waved his hand once, when he did the first thing, but he was just talking. And then he did it again, and it was stronger than before. It was like he took control of me, sir...and I took him out...wanting him to be safe...and he left."

The officer's brow furrowed, though in puzzlement this time. "That sounds...Yes. I see now. He's like a Jedi." A part of Verdan wondered if Kaven had tried a mind-trick on him when he had exclaimed that he hated the Republic and was an imperial officer, not a traitor, but dismissed it. If the pilot had tried it, surely he would have noticed. Nonetheless, he had been taken prisoner by the Republic and things had looked not at all friendly between him and the rebel officer, a fact which made the lieutenant consider the possibility of his being a double agent.

He looked to the other troops. "All right. You five, come with me. We'll find this man yet. And the rest of you, remain in the warehouse and await further orders. As for you-" the officer addressed the trooper whom Kaven had mind-tricked, "-I will decide your punishment later."

"...Yes, sir."

* * *

Several tense minutes passed. When the soldiers came back, they said, "Three of the Stormtroopers are still inside. The rest of them, and the officer, have left to search for Kaven."

Sutler raised an eyebrow. "He's not with them?"

"No, sir. Apparently he escaped out the back entrance. By the sounds of it, he used some kind of a Jedi mind-trick on one of the Stormtroopers."

It seemed Kaven was becoming quite adept at the mind-tricks, Sutler thought, but the fact that he had seen fit to escape from the imperials verified the information Madeen had given them; the Remnant wanted him as well, for treason.

For that matter, there was no sign of the bounty hunter. It had been only a few minutes after she had left that the imperial officer and his men had come in.

Madeen was completely neutral. She had neither ties to the Empire nor to the Republic, and simply went where the credits were. Perhaps the Remnant was offering a larger reward than the Twi'lek had let on, or perhaps she had decided to double her pay by playing both sides.

Sutler frowned. No wonder bounty hunters were considered scum.

"We'll check all available landing pads," he decided. "Leave the imperials for the time being. But Kaven mustn't escape Nar Shaddaa."

* * *

Kaven stopped and leaned against the side of a building to catch his breath. The feeling that had pervaded him at the warehouse was still with him, and the adrenaline of his flight still coursed through his veins.

A movement in the shadows caught his eye, and immediately his blaster was out and pointed at the mover. A Rodian in a long coat put his hands up immediately, eyes bulging.

"What do you want?" Kaven demanded harshly.

The Rodian answered, the normally musical tones of his language sounding quavering now. He was just out on business, he said, he had nothing to do with Kaven, he was just having a nice walk, please point the blaster someplace else. Please.

The pilot crooked his arm, pointing the barrel of the weapon skywards. "You know where a cantina called the Frozen Nebula is?"

The Rodian hesitated. "It's run by _Mira the Hutt,_" Kaven pressed, resisting the urge to use a mind-trick to get what he wanted. He had been using it too much lately, and the scene with the Stormtrooper had made him realize that the trick was one step away from outright violation. "Where is it?"

The alien knew where it was and told Kaven willingly, watching the blaster in his hand all the while. The pilot nodded and put the weapon away, then turned and ran.

After he had gone, the Rodian sagged and leaned against the wall. "_What a rough town this is,_" he fluted to himself, mopping his brow with a handkerchief.

* * *

Kaven managed to make it to the Frozen Nebula unmolested, a fact which astounded him. He glanced all around before he went in, on the lookout for Lieutenant Sutler, Lieutenant Scar, or any of their men. Hopefully they were still holed up in the warehouse shooting at each other.

He felt the gaze of the armoured bouncers on his back as he came in, and made a point of keeping his hands away from the blaster at his hip as he looked around. It didn't look especially busy, probably because of the late hour, and there were only a few scattered groups sitting at the tables. He went to the bartender, a blue-haired Theelin/human hybrid, and asked, "Could I...meet with Mira the Hutt?"

"You're pretty candid," she replied, looking up from the glass she held. "That's nice."

"I'm pretty desperate," he said, with a half-smile.

"What did you want to see her about?"

"I'm, uh..." Wary now, the pilot took a short step back from the bar. "What political side are you on?"

The woman grinned. "We're neutrals. I thought you'd have known that, if you'd come looking for us." She waved a hand around the bar, still holding the glass. "We buy and sell information from just about anyone."

Kaven relaxed. "Doesn't that get you into trouble?" Information and what he knew and what he didn't were his real problems. It was what had a dozen Stormtroopers, their officer, a dozen rebel soldiers, and _their _officer after him, not to mention bounty hunters.

"It could. But we keep ourselves too useful to have much harm done to us. Now...what did you want from Mira?"

"I'm looking for..." The pilot came forward and said, in a much softer tone, "...a Jedi that has nothing to do with the Republic _or _the Empire. A good one, not a Dark Jedi."

"Mmm, I see..."

Aware that he might be pushing his luck, Kaven added, "And, someone outside of the Empire's territory, and the Republic's."

"That could be tricky. But Mira loves a challenge, so we'll see what we can do." The Theelin hybrid jerked a thumb toward the back, where a curtain partitioned off another section of the room. "Go in there, and tell Doma that Diva sent you along."

Kaven smiled. He had been expecting a ridiculously long list of contacts before finally being taken to see the Hutt. It was good to have things straightforward again; he had begun to miss it. "Thanks!"

He all but ran to the back of the room, and had no sooner thrown back the curtain and stepped through than a hulking form in body armour turned to him and growled, "_Wwwot?_"

The pilot jumped at the sheer size of the bouncer; he was bigger than Hrakis, even, standing at over two metres. He couldn't see the bouncer's face for his helmet; species-wise, he could have been anything. "Whoa! Uh, Diva sent me along," he said, holding up his hands.

Miraculously, as if a switch had been thrown, Doma ceased to be threatening. He nodded curtly to the imperial officer and straightened, stepping back and somehow managing to blend with the scenery. Kaven exhaled and turned around.

There were more beings in here, mostly females, and they were watching a group of male entertainers dance. The song ended, and there was a round of applause from the crowd. Kaven's gaze drifted from the group and the entertainers to the raised dais before them, on which the proprietor lay.

Mira the Hutt was, the pilot decided as he laid eyes on her, undoubtedly one of the scariest females he had ever seen in his life. Since Hutts deemed fatness a sign of wealth and achievement, it was readily apparent that Mira was accomplished. Corpulent and sluglike, she looked like a typical Hutt, except for the bare fact that she was wearing makeup. Lipstick and eye shadow and-stars' end, was that a _beauty _mark?-that clearly marked her as having comfortably identified herself as female, despite the Hutts being hermaphrodites.

Forcibly he pulled his eyes from the image of a Hutt wearing makeup and looked at the being standing next to her. It was a slim, green-complected Twi'lek male, who wore a look of long-suffering resignation. He looked over, saw Kaven staring at them, and immediately whispered something to Mira. The Hutt's eyes rotated to regard the pilot.

Recognizing his cue, Kaven stepped closer and bowed. _What am I supposed to say? _he wondered. "Great Mira," he began, and the Hutt's great lips curved up in an unmistakeable smile, "I was told to seek you out, as a great source of information..."

In a booming voice Mira answered in Huttese, sounding pleased. The green Twi'lek, who was apparently her translator, said, "The great Mira the Hutt says that everyone seeks her out for information sooner or later, and that-" he listened to more Huttese, "-you should 'just spit it out.'"

Mira looked at him. "Honey," the translator added. "Just spit it out, _honey._"

"Well, I'm looking for a non-partisan Jedi that's got nothing to do with the dark side," Kaven said, nonplussed.

"The great Mira wants to know whether this is a specific Jedi you want, or no one in particular," the translator told him, after another rumbling answer from the alien. "And also whether you intend to kill this Jedi or hire this Jedi."

The pilot bit his lip. "I want...to learn from this Jedi."

The Hutt thought about it, and then answered. "We may be able to find someone of that description," the Twi'lek translated. "What do you have to offer in exchange for this information?"

This was going to be the hard part. "I can offer credits," Kaven said. He was an officer, so he wasn't exactly penniless. "If you prefer payment in other forms, though, I'm a top-notch pilot. I'm also good at ship repair."

Mira said that she would bear that in mind. "What about droids?" she asked, through her interpreter.

"I can repair them, too."

There was a deep belly laugh from the Hutt. She gestured toward the pilot and said something to her translator, who nodded. Mira took a long pull from the hookah pipe at her side, and added something. "The Great Mira says that you could make yourself very useful around here. In exchange for a sum of five thousand credits and your mechanical services, she will locate a suitable Jedi for you, but only locate. You are a fugitive, correct?"

Kaven nodded.

"Then you will have need of secrecy," the Twi'lek said.

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"Not at all," the alien replied. "The Great Mira is simply offering her services once more, if they are needed, to keep your presence hidden from those who are trying to find you. This place could be a sanctuary for you. At a small sum, naturally."

"How many credits?"

There was a rumbling laugh from the Hutt. At her reply, the interpreter flushed a little. _Uh-oh, _Kaven thought. "This sum...is not in credits. The Great Mira thinks...thinks...Mira, do I really have to translate this?"

The Hutt gave her employee a Look.

The Twi'lek sighed. "The Great Mira the Hutt is of the opinion that you are quite attractive," he told the pilot, "both in face and body. She wishes to propose that we offer protection in exchange for services from you as an entertainer."

The pilot's jaw dropped. "You want me to become a Hutt's eye candy!"

"In short, yes."

"I'll have you know that I'm an imperial officer!"

Mira grinned. "That's part of the charm," she said, through her translator.

Kaven raked a hand through his hair. "You want me to _dance _for you?"

"Yes."

"You want me to _sing?_"

"If you can."

"I can't hold a note. Me, entertainer-in front of a _crowd_? In _here?_"

"You seem upset," the Twi'lek remarked.

"I just got asked to dance for a Hutt's pleasure; of _course _it's left me off-balance," the pilot shot back. "I don't have to dress like those other guys, do I-assuming I even agree to this 'protection?'"

The alien looked to the Hutt, who shook her head and answered his question. "Not like one of the professionals, no," the Twi'lek told him. "If you opened your shirt a little, that would be fine. Oh Mira, why do you do this to me..."

Kaven's face felt hot. He knew that he couldn't trust the beings at this cantina-they were honestly and openly _dis_honest-but to them service was service, and paid service was (in all likelihood) service rendered. At the same time, he just couldn't bring himself to agree. He was _not _about to start dancing for a Hutt.

"The Mighty Mira wishes to add that this will be a private show, only between the three of us."

"Ergh-and the rest of the time I just flounce about looking pretty and repairing droids?"

The Hutt nodded, appearing delighted by all of this, and took another pull from the hookah pipe. Her interpreter gave Kaven an apologetic look.

The officer folded his arms across his chest. "Look, can I just think about this? And if I need the protection, I'll let you know."

Mira flapped a hand at him, blowing a smoke ring. "Sure, honey. In the meantime you can shack up here and get repairing those droids while we find your Jedi...provided we _have _a deal," she said through the Twi'lek.

"Yeah," Kaven said. "Yeah, we have a deal. Five thousand credits and I'll repair your droids. Sounds fine."

_Just _what _am I getting myself into? _he wondered.

* * *

Hours passed, and the cantina closed for the night. Mira and the translator disappeared into a room behind the dais, locking the door behind them.

Kaven sat before the scattered parts of a protocol droid, letting his hands do the work while his thoughts drifted. The droid had been destroyed in some incident or another; the pilot didn't know what it had been, and frankly didn't care.

He was a Force-sensitive and had only one trick to his name, but everyone that knew it seemed to think that he was a Dark Jedi. He wasn't. Just because he was with the Empire, it meant that he was evil.

_Bloody rebel propaganda,_ the officer thought, lips thinning as he put a facial covering over the droid's bare wires.

Just thinking of the rebels these days made his heart pound with anger. If it hadn't been for his capture on Kuan he would still be with his squadron, hunting down pirates and patrolling imperial space. But he was by himself, separated from everyone he had worked with in the past, hunted down by both sides and trying in vain to learn what he could about the Force.

He would learn. In time he would learn. When that day came, he would take back his place in the Empire and he would become a nightmare for the Republic.

Seething a little, the pilot sat back in his chair and looked over the parts scattered across the table. His gaze lit upon a little bolt sitting at his elbow, and he stared at it for a while.

On Caerul he had failed to lift anything telekinetically. Whether it had been because he had gone about it the wrong way, or because he had simply not exerted enough power, Kaven didn't know. In the warehouse, when he had gotten angry, he had gotten more powerful.

He was angry now. Surely he could lift something with the Force.

He put out a hand and concentrated on the bolt until his head hurt, but it didn't move. The pilot folded his arms in frustration, glaring at the little piece of metal. Eventually it occurred to him that perhaps it wasn't the bolt that he ought to be concentrating on, but the Force. If he was supposed to use the Force to do the things Jedi did, then it was the Force that he ought to try to manipulate, right?

Kaven thought about how it felt when he was using the mind-trick, and how it had felt when he had dominated the mind of the Stormtrooper. After some consideration, he concentrated again on lifting the bolt.

It moved a little, just a small twitch, but it was a twitch that sent his spirit soaring. He tried again, trying to push it a little, and it rolled back a few centimetres.

A smile came to his face, the first one in days, and eagerly he began experimenting a little more, trying to get a feel for what he was doing.

Time passed, and while Kaven's control was still messy, he had made some improvement through the evening. Eventually, satisfied, the pilot retired.

* * *

The wind ruffled the grasslands of what looked to Kaven like Dantooine and sifted through his hair. He opened his eyes and gazed up into the deep blue sky, feeling strangely at peace.

The pilot was lying underneath a tree, though it wasn't the bark that his back rested against. Instead he was leaning back against someone, a woman, relaxing with his legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. A slim orange hand was on his chest, fingers partway into his shirt and resting comfortably on his bare skin.

"This isn't going to last, is it," he heard himself murmur. The Togruta's hand patted him. "Didn't think so."

The day had grown silent, and ominous clouds were starting to gather. The kind of wind that heralds a storm had begun to blow, sending small plants and clouds of dust into the air. There was the distant rumble of thunder.

"It's him," Kaven said, sitting up and looking out over the darkening fields. Behind him the Togruta sat up as well. The officer reached into the grass at his side and picked up his lightsaber, then climbed to his feet. There was a bolt of lightning in the distance.

Feeling the dark side all around him, he ignited the weapon and its blade hissed out. It was a deep red.

There was a rustle of robe, and he glanced over to the Togruta woman. Bare orange feet, long legs and torso and arms covered by voluminous robes...

Instead of a lovely Togruta face, however, a Chistori stared back at him.

* * *

Kaven came awake with a start, threw an arm over his eyes, and nearly rolled off of the bench he had fallen asleep on. "Can't I ever have _normal _dreams?" he muttered to himself, rubbing his face and sitting up.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose, and he realized that he could sense the presence of another Force-sensitive, a dark-sider, nearby and coming closer all the time.

Heart pounding, he made sure that his blaster was firmly at his side before emerging from the room in which he had been putting the protocol droid together the night before. A flash of black cloak caught his eye, and he ducked back into the shadow of the doorway. The tall figure continued on across the room, unmindful of him, and disappeared through the curtain at the back.

_Hrakis, _Kaven thought.

"Late night, flyboy?" Diva asked him, as he went to the counter. She pushed over a cup of something dark. "This'll wake you up."

"Thanks. Erm, that's a Dark Jedi..."

The Theelin hybrid looked over her shoulder toward the curtain. "Yeah. I heard he's been looking for something called a holocron. He's not too pleasant, but he's a customer," she said, with a shrug.

Kaven took a sip of the drink and winced. It tasted vaguely like coffee, but it was so strong that it almost hurt his tongue to drink it. He put it down. "What's a holocron?"

"I dunno. Some sort of recorder, by the sounds of it."

The pilot left her and went to the curtain, moving aside a little bit of it with his finger. Inside, Hrakis was talking to Mira and the translator, who was explaining that their leads were pointing toward the Corporate Sector and Wild Space.

Hrakis abruptly straightened, and Kaven realized immediately that he had been found out. The Chistori turned, and with a wave of his hand he tore aside the curtain that had been hiding Kaven. His yellow eyes narrowed, and he began to advance as the pilot began to walk backwards.

Doma stepped forward then, but Hrakis turned his head and looked at him, and the bouncer stepped back.

"You. I _thought _I had sensed you here," the Dark Jedi said, coming closer. "I have not forgotten Kuan."

Kaven backed off until his back hit the wall, and Hrakis smiled a little. "Still as fearful as before," he said, and drew his lightsaber.

Before he could activate it, there was a soft sound from all around, and the Chistori saw that everyone in the room had drawn blasters on him. He glanced back to the human. Kaven held a blaster in his hand as well, and was watching him with a look of tight-lipped determination.

Hrakis returned it to his side. The pilot relaxed a little and the Dark Jedi promptly pried the blaster out of his hand using the Force, tossing it casually aside. Kaven gasped when the Chistori took a long step forward, closing the distance between them, and raised two fingers, palm inward. As if he had gripped the pilot by the throat Kaven slid upward against the wall, until his feet were dangling. The human's hands immediately rose to his neck.

"You escape again this time," the Dark Jedi said, leaning in close. Kaven turned his face aside. "The next time we meet, you will not be so lucky."

He released him. The pilot landed on his feet, sucking in a breath of air and rubbing his sore throat. He gave Hrakis a withering look as the Chistori turned away in a swirl of black cloak, but did not dare to comment. The alien left the cantina, and gradually the room began to relax again.

"You didn't mention that you knew each other," Diva said as Kaven all but collapsed into a chair.

"We've met. He doesn't...take kindly to being refused." The pilot gave her a dry smile. "And maybe I was a little rude back on Kuan."

"If you can't keep that sarcastic streak in check, honey, maybe it would be best for you to take Mira's offer of protection. Lots of imperials come in here. And Republicans, too," the bartender told him. "People know us. We're always busy."

"You'd stop them dragging me out?"

"If they tried to. We dissuade trouble-makers."

Kaven recalled the fact of everyone having drawn blasters on the Dark Jedi. "I noticed." He rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully, looking to the door. "I would really get protected?"

"Well, of _course. _Hasn't anyone ever looked out for you before?"

"Er...not that many."

"In any case, Erril, bounty hunters do come in here. That alien over there, that Kubaz-he's a bounty hunter." She saw Kaven stiffen. "Don't worry. He's after someone else. But what I'm trying to tell you is that if a bounty hunter, or an imperial officer or a Republic one, came in here, they could probably bribe Mira into letting them take you. Only, Mira likes you-she's got a thing about human men-so it would take more money, but it's still possible."

Kaven's stomach was starting to ache a little. He had a bad feeling about this. "Uh. I'd better talk to Mira, then."

"It's for the best."

* * *

"By the stars, you've actually decided to do this?" the translator asked. "You _must _be desperate!"

"I didn't say I was going to do it," Kaven shot back, flushing. "I want to know if there are any alternative options about this. I'm nobody's dancer."

Mira, apparently happy as a clam, gave him a long, rumbling reply. "The Great Mira wishes to know what is so terrible about this," the Twi'lek translated. "All you must do for immunity to kidnapping-as long as you are within the cantina-is dance for her. And five thousand credits and droid repair is extortionist enough-pardon me, Mira," he added, for the Hutt had given him another Look. "In any case, for this the Mighty Mira would rather see you, erm, move your body than your credits."

"Ergh!"

The Hutt laughed. "Literal translation, I'm afraid," said the Twi'lek. "This is your only offer."

"Five thousand more credits," said Kaven, trying desperately to save his ego. "_Ten _thousand more credits."

The alien listened to Mira's reply, and sighed. "She says you're cute when you're desperate."

"_Please, _Mira! I'm a pilot, not a dancer!"

At that moment, Diva poked her head through the curtain. "Sorry to bother you, Mira, but Madeen's here to see you. The Twi'lek bounty hunter, remember? She's with an officer."

_Sutler! _Kaven thought with dismay.

"Tell her that the Great Mira will see her in time," said the translator. "She is in the middle...of a business transaction right now."

"Sure, I'll just have them wait in the bar, then." To Kaven's discomfiture, the Theelin hybrid actually winked at him before disappearing again. He turned back to Mira and her interpreter. The Hutt had obviously realized what was going on, judging by her grin.

"Bloody hell."

"About that protection," the translator began.

"Uh, yeah. About that protection..."

* * *

When Kaven later emerged from the back, dark hair tousled and shirt still open almost to his navel, he immediately spotted the pair sitting at one of the tables and thought, _She's working with the _Empire _now? _

Madeen was seated beside an imperial officer in a black uniform, a very good-looking one with dark hair and a thin scar high on his cheek-the same one from the warehouse. Both of them looked up from their conversation and spotted him. Madeen broke into a grin. Kaven gave her a look in return which clearly said: _Yeah. Laugh about it. Go ahead._

The two stood up as Kaven approached them. "Hard at work?" the Twi'lek asked, noting the sheen of moisture on the human's skin.

"Always," Kaven said. Madeen's smile only grew, and there was a knowing gleam in her eyes that told him that she knew exactly what he had been doing in the back.

"Erril Kaven," said the imperial officer, exchanging a look of his own with the pilot. "Finally. We meet again, under civilized circumstances. I'm Lieutenant Verdan."

"That's a welcome break," the pilot replied. "I guess I don't need to ask what you were wanting to see Mira about, Lieutenant."

"No." The lieutenant's eyes moved to his chest for a moment before rising again, and he lifted an eyebrow quizzically. Apparently he didn't have Madeen's suspicions. "Are you willing to come along quietly, then, or will this be a repeat of the warehouse-or Tatooine?"

Kaven shook his head. "I'm not coming with you. I'll just stay in the cantina, thanks."

"You have a choice?"

The pilot smiled thinly. "I'm under the protection of Mira the Hutt."

"Oh?"

"You must have paid quite the price," Madeen remarked.

"I am certain that I could match it," Verdan said, perhaps thinking of bribing the Hutt for his quarry.

Kaven made a show of giving the lieutenant a once-over. "Yes, probably. She might like you." Their eyes met. "Check that. She would _definitely _like you." The pilot grinned. "You're a handsome one, Lieutenant."

A look of puzzlement came over Verdan's face, but before he could reply the pilot turned to Madeen and asked, "So when did you start working with the Empire on this, Madeen? I have to applaud your swindling Sutler, if that's what it was."

"I decided to take an imperial job just last night," the bounty hunter replied. "You were right, Erril-the Remnant's got the better bounty."

"Empire," both men corrected at once, and then raised an eyebrow at each other.

Madeen shrugged. "Either way, the lieutenant convinced me that a job with the Empire was a better paycheck, not to mention better for the reputation."

"Or the lifespan?"

"There was no need to threaten," Lieutenant Scar said. "I'm a civilized man." He gestured for Kaven to be seated, and all of them sat down.

"I can see that," Kaven said, once he had slid in across from them. "With that rebel officer, I fear for my little imperial life. I might have frustrated him a little too much in interrogation."

Verdan nodded. "I was informed that you'd been captured by rebels and escaped. Still, you have been charged with treason."

"No. I am an officer. There is nothing that would change my loyalty to the Empire."

"We lost a planet."

"I am innocent."

"Then return with us. Come back to the Empire and prove yourself."

_I can't prove anything, _Kaven thought. _That's the hard part. _"I-can't. I don't know what's going on. I've been framed."

Verdan shook his head. "I have no reason to believe you."

"I-I'm a TIE pilot! I fly around and shoot down rebel craft-I'm not in any position to possess information of that kind." Kaven put both hands on the table. "My loyalty to the Empire is unwavering because I hate the Republic that much, and you know why? My brother Lucian was an officer on board the Death Star, and the rebels destroyed it. I'm not the only one with this story-one of my wing mates lost his father,for god's sake.I'm sure you know someone as well, Lieutenant."

He sat back, folding his arms and taking a deep breath. "This is all I can offer in my own defence."

The imperial officer considered. "If you come with me," he said at length, "you will not be harmed. The commander will be made aware of your situation."

Kaven hesitated. While he preferred the Empire, he wasn't foolish enough to trust just anyone from it. He was well aware that his fellow officers could be snakes, and Verdan's commander might not believe his lieutenant's story and bring him into interrogation anyway. And given the draconian nature of the Empire, that interrogation would be a nightmare.

"You'd better watch this one," Madeen whispered into the lieutenant's ear. "He's an escape artist, and he uses the Force."

"Erm," Kaven said.

"Your mind-tricks are enough to control my men, but they will not work on me," Lieutenant Verdan said to him. "Madeen's mentioned that the rebels that captured you think of you as a Dark Jedi."

"But I'm not. I'm not evil."

"He's a beginner," Madeen said.

"I _am _a beginner. Two months ago, I didn't even know that I could use the Force!"

"And then you dominated the mind of one of my men," Verdan said. "Impressive."

"Look, that's...a special case. That's all I know how to _do, _Lieutenant!"

Madeen's eyes shifted to the officer at her side. "He's a fledgling Jedi. That could be good for you."

Kaven shook his head. "No. _No. _I'll come back to the Empire when I'm trained, I just need some time." There were no imperial Jedi; if he trained with the Empire, he would be trained in the dark side and really _would _become evil. "I need to do this, and I can't do it if I'm your prisoner. It's the only way I'm going to find out who framed me."

"I can't let you go."

"You must." The pilot sighed. "You can't take me now, and I won't go."

"If that is your answer, then so be it." Verdan looked directly at him. "The very moment you set foot outside this cantina, you will no longer be under Mira the Hutt's protection, and that means that you'll be under mine."

_I am so sick of hearing that 'You're mine' business, _Kaven thought glumly. "I know," he said. "And I intend to stay inside."

He stood up, and the others did as well. "I've got things to do," he murmured, turning away.

"If you change your mind, we will not be far," said the lieutenant.

"I bet." Kaven started for the back, looking around. The Frozen Nebula was just a cantina, but it had become a prison now. He sighed, a part of him just wanting to give up and go with them and meet whatever the Fates had in store for him. He waved a hand over his shoulder. "See you around, Lieutenant. Madeen."

After he had disappeared through the curtains, Madeen looked to the officer at her side. "I think you've almost got him," she said. "He's usually cheekier than that."

But Lieutenant Verdan's mind was on something else. He touched the scar on his cheek thoughtfully, wondering if Kaven could mind-trick more than one person at the same time. If the Stormtroopers were susceptible to it, it would be better to post them in pairs. Eventually the pilot would have to give up and leave the cantina.

"Back to the ship," he said. "We've got things to do as well."

* * *

Much later, while Diva was closing up, Kaven opened the door and looked out. Two Stormtroopers turned to face him, and one of them waved.

The pilot shut the door then, leaning against it and raking a hand through his hair. "This _is _a prison," he groaned.

* * *

The next day Kaven was bent over another broken-down droid when the door opened and a huge figure walked in. He looked up and squinted in the blue glow from the eye-slit of Doma's faceplate. The bouncer jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Go see Mira," he rumbled.

The pilot set down the parts he had been holding and stood up, brushing his hands on his trousers. He went to the curtains, with Doma following behind and above him like a swift mountain, swept them aside with one hand, and walked in.

"You wanted to see me about something?"

Mira, lounging as always on her dais, took a pull from her hookah pipe and exhaled, speaking in a rumble of Huttese. "The Great Mira wishes to inform you that she has located a Jedi associated with neither the Empire nor the Republic," her interpreter said.

It was as though the sun had broken through the clouds. For the first time since he had been trapped in the cantina Kaven broke into a smile. "_Really!_"

"In addition," the Twi'lek translator continued, "this Jedi is on a politically neutral planet beyond the Outer Rim."

Kaven could hardly believe it. "Which planet?"

"Feladorn."

The name was completely unfamiliar to the young officer. Though he racked his brain for details, he simply did not know where it was. "I've never heard of it."

"Not many have," the alien told him. "It's located in Wild Space. The hyperspace routes to it are almost unknown and there are very few pilots that know their way to it."

Kaven's shoulders sagged. Before his hopes could fade the Twi'lek added, after a comment from the Hutt, "The Great Mira knows one such pilot." The officer's face lit up again. "He is a regular at this cantina...or as regular as he can get, considering his, ah, profession. He and his crew drop in every now and then."

"Is he a smuggler, then?" the pilot asked.

Mira laughed. "Erm, no," said the translator. "He is a pirate."

"A _pirate!_"

"A pirate. A corsair, buccaneer, space-robber, man of low moral fibre, expert treasure-hunter, expert in filthy lucre..."

"I get it! He's a bloody _pirate!_"

"You seem upset," the Twi'lek observed. Mira was chuckling.

"Well, there's this obscure little planet where I can find my Jedi out in Wild Space where nobody ever goes and nobody knows how to get there except for a pirate, and there's me-what-thinking to get a ride with them? I've spent my career _fighting _pirates! I'm a TIE pilot-he'll shoot me on sight!"

"He's not _that _bad," the alien said. Then he corrected himself. "Well, he is scum and villainy. But he's never killed anyone in the cantina..."

"Everyone seems to know that I'm an imperial," Kaven continued. "How do I know that he'll even _give _me a ride-or, if I even get that far, he won't just turn me in, strand me somewhere, or kill me?"

There was a belly laugh from Mira. "Don't worry about that, honey," she said through her interpreter, "Captain Argent's got a few things he owes us, and he can pay off that tab by taking you along safely if you decide to go along with this. It will cost you additional credits to persuade him, of course."

"How many?" Kaven asked, dazedly.

The Twi'lek listened to the Hutt's answer. "She says two hundred thousand will do. Because she likes you."

Kaven's floored expression did not ease. "Stars," he said in a soft voice.

"And you danced so...erm...oh, she liked your dancing." Mira commented, and the interpreter flushed. "Oh, _Mira!_" he said.

"So...many...credits..."

"She says that you handle your body very well, and the muscles you have are nice ones...Mira, you're doing this on purpose-oh, I'm not translating _that!_"

"S-so...much...money..."

"No! It doesn't even translate into Basic! And I've already said it, he obviously _knows _he's good-looking, he _knows _he has a nice body. Look-" Cheeks red, the Twi'lek turned to Kaven, "-two hundred thousand is a little discount, but it's a good discount, and we accept Imperial Credits."

"I...I...credits...two hundred...thousand..." Snapping out of it, Kaven looked up at them. "I'll be right back," he said carefully. "I need to check something."

* * *

The pilot came running into the bar like a turbulent wind, and Diva nearly dropped the glass she held when the human suddenly appeared at the counter. "Where can I check my credit reserve?" he asked.

She pointed, and he ran off again. After a few minutes, Kaven came back at a slow walk, one hand up and running through his hair. He wore a look of mortification. "I don't have enough," he murmured, trailing back into the back room.

"Uh-oh," the bartender said.

* * *

"A hundred and sixty thousand?" Kaven asked, feeling a cold sweat breaking out over his body. Mira shook her head. "A hundred and sixty thousand, and what information I can offer," he amended, feeling as though his charisma were at the breaking point. He had been trying to charm a lower price out of the Hutt for an hour and a half, and while they had wrestled it down to a hundred and eighty thousand credits, the pilot just didn't have that much money in his account. There was just over a hundred and sixty-nine thousand credits there, and there because he had been saving it for an emergency. Imperial officers were well-off, it was true, but even _he _didn't have two hundred thousand just for spending. Not after this mess.

"Captain Argent is not going to be easily swayed, especially since you're a TIE pilot," the Twi'lek said. "A hundred and eighty thousand."

Kaven sagged visibly. "But I can't..."

An idea hit him.

"What if I could donate a _ship?_" he asked, desperately. "It's a Republic ship, it's very good, it's in good condition, has a good hyperspace drive, manoeuvrable, overall a nice and well-made ship?"

The translator turned to Mira, and they began to murmur together, privately discussing this new turn of events.

The Twi'lek looked over at him. "This ship is stolen?" he asked. Kaven nodded, lips thin, and the two aliens went back to their discussion. After another moment, the translator asked after the ship, wishing to know more technical details. Kaven told him, and he went back to discussion. The pilot's heart was thumping, and he hoped beyond all reason that Sutler had not found out where he had landed the thing.

"The Great Mira has decided," the translator said at last. Kaven watched them, wide-eyed and pale-faced. "If you provide us with this ship, we will hire Captain Argent to take you to Feladorn safely, at a credit cost of a hundred and sixty thousand."

The pilot realized that he had been holding his breath, and now he let it out in a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Mira. Thank you."

* * *

One of Mira's underlings took off in a speeder to check the lot that Kaven had told them of, and four tense hours later returned to report that the ship was there as the pilot had described, and was a good ship.

The deal was done. Kaven, a hundred and sixty thousand credits lighter in pocket but that much lighter in spirit, sat before the junked droid he had been working on earlier, humming as he repaired it. He couldn't leave the cantina without being nabbed by Lieutenant Verdan and his men, but it was better than getting captured by Lieutenant Sutler, and he had some hope of getting out of here.

...By hitching a ride to a planet on the arse-end of space with a bunch of pirates, who were bound to show up any day. Oh, well.

At least, he thought, replacing a wire, Bryn Shar couldn't see him now. She would laugh at his expense until her stomach hurt, and frankly he wouldn't blame her.

* * *

The next day, Madeen came back to the cantina. "So you're still here," she said, going to Kaven. "You've been stuck here for two days. I would have thought you'd have cabin fever by now, since you like running around so much."

The pilot leaned casually against the counter and asked, "Are you getting bored out there, Madeen?"

She smiled. "There's plenty to do on Nar Shaddaa."

"You'd better get to it while you've got the chance."

"What, you've got a plan?" He nodded. "Going to mind-trick the Stormtroopers? Or maybe...dance for them?" Kaven's burgeoning smirk dropped off his face. "I'm sure they'd like it; Mira probably did. Guard duty is boring."

"Does anyone else know about Mira's weird tastes?" he asked flatly.

"Among the imperials I'm with? Nah. They could always find out, but I think I'll spare them the knowledge. They're all humans, after all."

"Did you come in here to try to persuade me to come out so they can arrest me?"

"Yes."

"Not happening, love."

"You're a lot less...despondent than the last time we talked."

"I have been given the greatest of all gifts, which is hope," Kaven told her, taking a sip of his drink. "And I'm in a position to gloat. You can't stun me and drag me out of here without trouble, and neither can the lieutenant. Heck, if _Sutler _came in here, I'd chat with him. He'd hate that."

Madeen leaned on the counter. "So who's carting you off to safety?"

Kaven merely smiled and raised a hand. An empty glass rose into the air and floated there, bobbing in front of them. The pilot reached out and took it, then set it down. "See you around, Madeen," he said, turning away from the counter.

She watched him disappear into a side room. "Hmph."

* * *

For the next few days Kaven stayed in the cantina, trying to fight off his rising feelings of being caged with the hope of being allowed to study with a Jedi on a planet unknown to the Empire and the New Republic. To keep himself occupied he repaired droids, flirted with Diva, and talked to any Stormtroopers that came in. None had any information that he didn't already have, and most weren't anything other than exasperated with him, but it was something to pass the time. Having to stay in the Frozen Nebula was driving him half mad with boredom, but at least it was safe.

It was on the eighth day that the pirates came.

Kaven peeked out from behind the curtain at the back and saw them there. There were nine of them, all scum and villainy. "Ergh. Here we go," he said. "Time to go see the pirates."

He didn't move.

"Go talk to them," said the translator. "You've got Mira's approval, you'll be fine."

With mynocks in his stomach the pilot went out into the cantina proper, and approached the table at which the pirates sat. They were a rough-looking lot, mostly composed of humans and Twi'leks, and as Kaven approached he saw without a doubt who the captain was. Any man who could have a Kowakian monkey-lizard sitting peacefully on his shoulder and still have both eyes had to be the leader. The monkey-lizard looked up at him and chattered, and the pirates turned their heads.

"Whaddya want?" a pale blue Twi'lek woman asked.

"Captain Argent?"

The man he had addressed turned to him fully. The pirate captain was a tall and broad-shouldered, youngish human with long blonde hair. There was a short scar across his right eyebrow. His legs were stretched out before him and he appeared relaxed, but his hands were close to the blasters at his hips. "Who's asking?"

"My name is Erril Kaven. Mira told me that you knew the way to Feladorn."

The pilot felt the pirates' gaze keenly. Captain Argent appeared to be waiting for him to continue. "And you want us to tell you the way," the man said. The pale Twi'lek turned to another pirate and mouthed, _Sounds like he's from the Empire._ The man nodded, glanced at Kaven, and replied silently, _Smells like imp officer to me. _The Kowakian monkey-lizard climbed down from Argent's shoulder and sat on the table, staring up at the officer.

"Actually...I was hoping you would give me a ride," Kaven admitted. "Mira said that we could hire you-"

The pilot took a step back as Argent rose to his feet. The captain brushed by him and headed directly for the back, demanding, "_Mira, what IS this!_" The pale Twi'lek got up and ran into the back as well, throwing aside the curtain.

A pirate snickered. "Subtle, boy."

Argent's voice, muffled by the thick curtain, floated from the back: "Since when was I running a taxi service?"

"He's not too fond of imperials, is he."

"We _rob _imperial ships, kid."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Kaven and the pirates stared at each other. The pilot's eyes met those of a turquoise Twi'lek, who looked about twelve years old. The girl, who had been staring at him since he had emerged from the back, patted the seat next to her.

"What brings an imperial officer to looking for a ride from pirates?" a human pirate asked.

"A rather complicated situation," said Kaven.

"Pat-pat means sit down," said the girl, patting the seat again. This time Kaven acquiesced, sliding in next to her.

"Ahh, 'It's an imperial thing, you dumb pirates wouldn't understand,' sort of thing, is it?"

The officer shook his head. "No. More of an, 'I get shot at if I so much as say hello these days' sort of thing," he said.

"What are you looking for on Feladorn?" the Twi'lek girl asked.

"I need to meet with someone."

"You're in trouble with the Empire, aren't you."

Kaven looked at the monkey-lizard, who was staring at him with its little mean eyes. Finally he nodded. Eventually Captain Argent and the Twi'lek woman came out from the back.

"Looks like we've got a little deal with Mira," said Argent. Even the monkey-lizard looked up at that. "In exchange for taking this kid to Feladorn in one piece-" he gestured to Kaven, "-she'll absolve our debts and _your _tab, Rico."

The pirate he had indicated grinned. "Sounds like a fair deal to me."

"Is that all, Cap'n? Take him to Feladorn?" the girl asked.

Argent slid in across from Kaven. "That's all from Mira," he said, looking directly at the pilot, "but not from Erril, here."

_Damn, _Kaven thought. _Not credits, not credits._

"You see, we don't just ferry people across the galaxy; it's bad for the reputation. You'll have to do something in exchange for the ride."

The Twi'lek girl's eyes widened, and she looked to Kaven. "He can join the crew!"

Kaven was aghast. "_What?_"

"Our Hutt friend was kind enough to tell us a thing or two about you," the pale Twi'lek woman said. "I think a pilot of your standing would be handy while you're with us. Right, fellahs?"

"You want me to join the crew and be a _pirate_?"

"Do that for a standard month's time, and we'll take you to Feladorn and keep that fact quiet. Those Stormtroopers outside want you, and you'd hate to have them tipped off to where you're going," Argent said, sitting back. The monkey-lizard got back up onto his shoulder and cackled at Kaven.

"Our best pilot aside from the captain bit the dust in a shootout on Ryloth," the turquoise Twi'lek told the officer. "We're out by one." Then she grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders. "C'mon. You've got a pirate in you."

_When I find out who framed me, _Kaven thought, _I am going to wring his neck with my bare hands._

"I am an imperial officer," he said.

The girl considered. "I like you anyway," she said at last. "But Erril, if you join up with us, you might like it."

_How could I ever _like _attacking imperial ships? _the pilot thought. "Do you attack ships from the Republic?" he asked.

"All the time," Argent said.

Kaven thought about it for a long time, and then finally nodded, not at all approving of his own decision. "Fine. I'll join you. I'll be a pirate."

* * *

That night Lieutenant Verdan was about to enter the cantina when he caught a glimpse of a shadow passing over his head. He looked up, and saw it disappear behind a nearby building. Eyes narrowing, he began to move toward it. After another moment, light flashed on a metal object hurtling through the air, which struck one of the walkways above them. There was a line attached. A hook shot.

The officer turned and called for his Stormtroopers, and behind him a man's form shot upward and scrambled up onto the walkway.

Aware that he had been spotted, Kaven ran for the meeting place they had arranged. He sprinted down one walkway, over a platform, and down another, and then the blaster bolts began to fly. One hit the ferrocrete close to his right foot, leaving a little scorch mark, and he picked up his pace.

Knowing that the troopers' blasters were set to stun didn't comfort the pilot any as he ran.

A Stormtrooper appeared right before him. "Halt!"

"Out of my way!" Kaven shouted, bringing one hand up and using the Force to push the man back. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to make the man stumble. He struck the surprised trooper with his shoulder, sending him sprawling as he barrelled past. With adrenaline rushing through his veins he raced across walkways and through streets, streaking toward where Argent's ship was docked.

After this whole affair was over, the pilot supposed, he was going to be one hell of a fast sprinter. He was certainly getting enough practice.

* * *

As Lieutenant Verdan started across one of the platforms connecting the walkways, Madeen pulled up alongside him in a speeder. "Come on," the Twi'lek said. "I saw him heading this way." The imperial officer got in, and they shot away into the night.

* * *

The turquoise Twi'lek girl was waiting for Kaven outside of the pirates' ship, which looked like a modified corvette from the Old Republic, and when he came running around the corner, she turned and lowered the gangplank. "Good to see you made it!" she chirped. "Come on-_look out!_"

Kaven chanced a look over his shoulder, saw Madeen and Lieutenant Verdan roaring up in a speeder, and swore. He put on another burst of speed. The pirate disappeared into the ship, and the fugitive followed. The gangplank went up as their pursuers hopped out of the car.

"Frang! _Frang!_" Madeen stamped her foot in frustration. "Luck of pilots! Damn it!"

"Get a homing device on that ship," Verdan ordered, pointing to the spacecraft, which was starting to lift off by now.

The bounty hunter drew one from her utility belt and took a few running steps toward the pirate ship, getting up enough momentum to throw the device the needed distance. It sailed through the air, hit the hull of the stern, and stuck there. The ship sailed upwards and disappeared into the night sky.

"You can't run forever, flyboy," she muttered.


	6. Chapter 5: A Pirate's Life

**Chapter 5:**

**A Pirate's Life**

_The space over Nar Shaddaa. Outer Rim territories. The pirate ship known as the _Rogue.

Once they had made the jump to hyperspace Captain Argent stretched out across from Kaven, looking at him with amusement. "Looks like you're going to be trouble," he remarked. Before the pilot could reply, he shrugged and added, "Well, it's not as though we're unused to it."

Then he leaned forward. "Care for a death stick?"

"I don't do that kind of thing," Kaven said, tightly.

Argent nodded and settled back again. "Good. I'd throw you out the airlock if you did."

"Have you done that before?" the pilot asked. Argent just shrugged. Kaven turned his head a little at a movement, and saw that the turquoise Twi'lek girl had slid in beside him. She offered him a grin. Wonderful, he thought. A prepubescent pirate had a crush on him.

"I think you ought to tell us about yourself, Erril," said the captain.

"Didn't Mira tell you about me already?"

"Yeah. I wanna hear it from you directly. How long were you a TIE pilot?"

"Six years. I made captain after four."

A little smirk touched Argent's lips. "How good of a pilot _are _you?"

"One of the best."

The pirate nodded, wheels obviously turning in his head. The Twi'lek girl, who had been staring at Kaven throughout this exchange, tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned to look at her, she took his hand and shook it. "My name's Min Bastana," she told him. "Just call me Min."

"Call me Erril."

"I do already. What are you on the run for?" she asked.

"I've been framed for treason against the Empire," he replied. Argent raised an eyebrow. "After I finish my business on Feladorn, I'm going to find out who did it and-"

"Wring his scrawny neck?"

"-turn him in, since he's probably framing me for his _own _actions."

"No fun."

"So you're completely loyal to the Empire?" Argent asked. Kaven nodded. "How much do you hate the New Republic?"

"I loathe, detest, and despise it," the pilot replied, before he could stop himself. Then he shut his mouth, aware that the pirate might be partisan. "Erm. What about you...Captain?"

"I don't care one way or another," the pirate said with a shrug. "Politics come and go, and there's always a war going on somewhere in this damn galaxy. So, you hate the Republic enough to commit your first act of piracy?"

"Yes."

"Grand."

* * *

The imperial shuttle cruised into the hangar, tucking its wings and landing with the grace of a seasoned pilot. The walkway came down, and those on board began to disembark.

Jan Kaven's boots made a hollow click as he stepped down, followed by his squadron of Stormtroopers. The hangar was not in a Star Destroyer, though he wished it were; instead it was located on a space station orbiting Tel Sharis, a jungle planet on which the young lieutenant had been given his latest assignment.

He was not comfortable with the thought of staying on a space station, but assured himself that it would only be temporary. Tel Sharis had been conquered, and he would be posted elsewhere eventually.

Right now the officer found that he preferred the jungle to the thought of his superiors, but he was careful to keep those sentiments to himself, though; right now, especially, he had to appear nothing but loyal to the Empire.

"Phew, I'm glad that's over with," one of the Stormtroopers behind him remarked to another. "Hot jungle's one thing, but I could have done without the Streegs."

There was a noise of affirmation from the man's partner. "I heard they use their stingers for hypodermic needles."

That was one thing to be grateful for, Jan decided; there were no Streegs on board the station. Huge, blood-sucking insects that were like mosquitoes, the Streegs had proboscises that could punch through the troopers' armour if they needed to, though the damnable things had proven very good at seeking out the gaps between pieces. The troopers and officers had quickly learned to listen for them. There had been a few cases in the infirmaries of massive blood loss.

There was a high-pitched whine then, and Jan had almost slapped at the source of it before he realized that it was only a droid and settled down. There was a solid _clunk _as one of the Stormtroopers slapped his breastplate, then straightened embarrassedly. "Hah. Force of habit," he said, as the little droid flew by.

The lieutenant stopped and turned to his men. "I must make my report to the commander," he said. "In the meantime, you're all dismissed."

"Yes, sir." As one they left the hangar, leaving their officer behind.

"You seemed happier in the jungle," a woman's voice said, and Jan turned his head to see Lieutenant Nalian there. "Then again, you didn't get bitten by Streegs so much."

Jan shrugged. "I don't like space stations. I would rather be planetside."

"I understand." Nalian was his age; they had graduated from the academy on Corulag two years before, and remained on good terms with one another. Before the assignment on Tel Sharis the officer had always worn her hair long, but after a few days' exposure to the heat and humidity, had chopped it off with a knife out of frustration. Now the longest parts of it barely passed her ears.

"Yes."

"Well. The sooner we make our report, the sooner we'll get sent back or transferred." He nodded at that, and they left the hangar. They went to Commander Maldict's office and made their reports. Jan gave his without embellishment, keeping it as concise as possible. He wasn't fond of the commander, who had always put him on edge for some reason, and he didn't want to linger any longer than he had to.

"Our unit strength was down to eighty percent," he said, describing the last battle they had last fought. "However, we pushed the New Republic forces into a retreat. Three gunships made it into the air, but only one got through the atmosphere. The other two were gunned down by the ion cannons at D12."

"The third ship did not make it into hyperspace," another officer said. He was a naval lieutenant, speaking from his place aboard a Dreadnought-class cruiser via holoprojector. "It was destroyed by fire from the _Ulysses. _The total damage report has been sent to the Lambda Station logs, Commander."

Maldict leaned back in his chair. He was a tall man of about forty, with black hair and a sturdy build, and he was rather handsome, in a conventional masculine way. "Very well. Lieutenant Kaven?"

Jan held out a datapad, on which he had kept his battle reports. "Here is the full record, sir." The commander took it, his gloved hand brushing Jan's briefly, and after they had finished their respective reports, he dismissed them.

The lieutenant turned to leave, but stopped when Maldict said, "Wait a minute, Kaven. I want to discuss something with you."

The hairs on the back of Jan's neck stood up. Nalian gave him a sympathetic look as she left, and the door slid shut behind her.

There was a moment of silence. "You've recently filed a request for a transfer," said Commander Maldict. "To one of the units associated with Admiral Makar's fleet. Why is that?"

"I want to help regain the planet that was lost," Jan said.

"It's admirable of you to want to undo the damage that your brother caused." The young officer heard the commander smile. "But is it really that, Lieutenant-or is it that you want to have access to your brother's contacts?"

Now Jan turned around, forcing himself to stay relaxed. He had a weird feeling, though-just a hunch, but Maldict seemed up to something. "If you're questioning my loyalty, Commander," he said, "it is absolute. I am not my brother."

"You don't doubt that your brother is a traitor?"

"No. Erril betrayed the Empire. I want to undo the damage he's done." The words, all lies, tasted bitter to him.

Maldict seemed to believe it, though, and nodded. "Mm. Captain Thule of the _Imperial Dawn_-the ship your brother was stationed aboard-happens to be an acquaintance of mine. Your brother, by all accounts, was a brilliant pilot. But he lacked the proper respect for authority. He was flippant, arrogant, bold-a traitor in the making. Thule will not welcome another Kaven on board his vessel," he said, watching the young lieutenant carefully.

_My brother's name is __**Erril**__, _Jan thought. Annoyance welled up in him, but he kept his mouth shut and his expression neutral. The commander was trying to prompt a reaction from him. He wouldn't get it.

"No," Maldict murmured, after a long and uncomfortable silence. "Your request is denied. I will keep you here, where I can keep my eye on you. Your loyalty remains to be proven." Then he smiled, and the hairs on the back of Jan's neck rose again. "You're a promising officer, Kaven, but your place is here. Perhaps under me you can become a captain."

"I understand, sir. If I may make another request, I would like to return planetside."

"Hmm. I'll think about it, Lieutenant," the commander replied, waving a hand as he sat down again. "In the meantime, you are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." Jan saluted, turned on his heel, and left.

Once in the corridor, he sighed; his transferral request was a no-go, so he would have to investigate his brother's case in some other way. He knew the names of Erril's wing mates, Kore Berradeen and Roon Sarda-they'd been with him from the beginning, but he could not remember the rest of the squadron. They were a revolving set. Getting in touch with Roon or Kore would be difficult, and doing it openly would be too suspicious. If they were still alive, they might know something, though they might not want to talk to him.

Jan wondered if he could use the mind-trick to coax information out of someone, and then realized that he probably could have used it to persuade Commander Maldict to grant him the transfer to one of the units currently on Rugos IV. Under one of their field commanders he might have the chance to safely contact Admiral Makar, or at least someone that could vouch for his brother's loyalty.

He glanced back at the door. He considered going back in there and mind-tricking Maldict into changing his decision, but his better sense told him that it wasn't a good idea.

The lieutenant started down the hall, and stopped before one of the windows that looked out into the darkness of space. Lambda Station rotated as it orbited Tel Sharis, and right now the planet was not visible from this side of the structure. It seemed remote, though that illusion would be gone when they turned toward the cloudy green planet again.

He hoped that the commander would allow him to return planetside, but he doubted that he would be that lucky. It would be easier to keep an eye on him here.

It wasn't being in space that bothered Jan-he had no qualms about flying. It was the station itself. It was no Death Star, but it made him a little nervous. Maybe Erril felt the same way, on the rare occasion that he boarded a space station, but probably not. His older brother was almost self-destructively fearless. Jan was no coward either, but in a way he felt more secure in a hailstorm of blaster fire.

Jan sighed, hoping that his reckless brother was all right. It had been a month since they had spoken, and Erril had since then moved out of the range of communication for the projector the lieutenant had given him. He would try to contact him again when he found something out..._if _the commander ever let him out of his sight.

Maldict. It would take luck and planning to pull a fast one on him; the man gave the impression of being a little absent-minded, but in reality he had a mind like a steel trap.

_Knowing my luck, I'm going to be stuck here, _the young officer thought glumly. He got on well with the station personnel, but he was starting to feel caged in. It would lead to frustration if he didn't have something to occupy himself with, and without really thinking about it Jan turned and started down one of the adjacent hallways, toward the shooting range. He was a good shot, could even hit something in the dark most of the time-the range would be a welcome distraction. There he could put his cares aside and just focus on the target.

* * *

The _Rogue _leapt out of hyperspace and began its course through the system they had entered. A large, dusty-brown planet with rings grew closer and closer.

"Geonosis?" Kaven asked.

The human pirate who was driving the ship-Rico-nodded. "Neutral planet. We'll get rid of our unwanted guest either in the rings or planetside, if it comes to that."

The imperial officer looked at the screen depicting the ship that was chasing them. It was Madeen's ship-a red, vaguely crustacean-looking thing-and it had been after them since Nar Shaddaa. An imperial craft had been there in the beginning, but a few well-placed shots from Captain Argent had sent it careening down over Kowak. "Madeen's pretty good at ship-to-ship. I hope you're good at dodging asteroids."

"Good enough, impy. Hey! What are you doing!"

"I'm running a scan on the Rogue. Hm...I see...Madeen must have put a homing device on the hull. I can see where it is." Kaven looked up. "Let me pilot."

"Excuse me, rookie?"

"_Rookie?_ I'm one of the Empire's best. I can get through an asteroid field with my eyes closed, and I can get us out of here."

Rico started to protest, but a voice from behind them said, "Let the newcomer give it a try. If he's half as good as he says, we'll be fine." From where he stood in the doorway, Argent nodded to behind the Rogue. "And we'll be rid of _them_."

"Uh, yes, Captain." Kaven and Rico switched seats, and the pilot settled in comfortably.

"Madeen probably won't try to kill us," he said. "They want me alive and she knows I'm aboard." He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them he continued, "There's an imperial officer with her. Lieutenant Verdan."

"Trying to cut down on imperial casualties, kid?"

"Yes. I don't care what happens to any rebel pursuers, but imperials are another thing entirely. I'm trying to _clear _my name with the Empire."

There was a soft hum from the inner pocket of Kaven's jacket as they dove into the rings of Geonosis, and he nearly groaned. _Not now, Jan, _he thought. _Not now._

The humming stopped once they were in the field, the connection disrupted. His brother would likely worry, but he would have to wait. The Rogue navigated between the huge chunks of rock spiralling around them, and Madeen's ship followed with an eerie smoothness.

Several tense minutes passed, as the silent chase through the rings continued, and then Rico whispered to his captain, "He is good." Then he gave Kaven's back a questioning look as the pilot turned and headed deeper into the field, letting the bounty hunter follow them. "Huh?"

* * *

"What's he doing?" Lieutenant Verdan wondered aloud, at Madeen's side. As they had flown it had looked like the pirate ship was simply going to pass through the rings and go planetside, but then they had turned around and headed in again.

"Dunno," the Twi'lek replied, her brow furrowed. "It's got to be Kaven driving-and he knows he's not going to get me to crash."

Through the viewport they saw one of the smallest asteroids suddenly collide with the hull of the pirate ship, and the craft shook with the impact. Madeen's puzzlement deepened, and then she saw the bits of scrap floating in the void as the pirate ship sailed upward.

"The homing device!" the bounty hunter exclaimed. "He knocked it off! Damn it!"

* * *

"Got it!" Kaven declared with delight, laughing. The laughter abruptly halted when he saw that Argent was glaring at him. "Erm, sorry."

"You _let _us get hit."

"There was, uh, that homing device on the hull," the pilot said quickly, as they left the rings. "The asteroid took it off. There'll be hardly a scratch when we land, honestly."

The pirate captain just sighed in exasperation. "Just get us into hyperspace, flyboy. Once your friends are out of the way, you can start paying us back."

* * *

When the connection failed, Jan tried again to contact his brother, but the attempt failed. For a moment he wondered if something had happened to Erril, but then relaxed a bit and reminded himself that he would know if anything had happened. The pilot must have been somewhere in range and then left, or any other reason in a wealth of them. He was fine.

"Lieutenant Kaven." The hairs on the back of Jan's neck prickled and he turned to face the commander, slipping the holoprojector back into his pocket as he did so.

"Yes, sir?" He would have to find a better place to talk to his brother. There weren't too many places on the station that were private enough for his liking.

Maldict stopped before him. "Private call?" he inquired, in a way that suggested mere small talk.

"Not on the job, sir. I was contacting our base on Tel Sharis to see about the repairs. The channel was already in use." During the fighting a prominent wing of the building had been destroyed by cannon fire.

The older man waved a hand. "Judging by the reports, they're going well. You needn't worry about them. I've considered your request to return to the base."

"Yes, Commander?"

"You'll remain at Lambda Station for the time being."

"...I understand, sir." He had expected this. Until Erril was found-or cleared-he was going to be under scrutiny. He and his brother were close.

* * *

Maldict watched the young officer's departing back. Although the lieutenant seemed sincere enough in his concern over the base, the commander doubted that he had been trying to contact them just then. More likely he was trying to get in contact with someone associated with Admiral Makar.

Jan Kaven had to be stopped from investigating his brother's case, if that was what he intended to do. If he was telling the truth and wanted to make up for his brother's actions, that was fine. But if he was lying, then his meddling could cause a lot of trouble.

Sending him back to Tel Sharis would give him too much freedom. He would keep the young man here, where he could make sure that he behaved himself, and he would keep a close watch on him.

It wouldn't do for him to take too much initiative, after all.

* * *

The battery lifted from the table and floated gently between Kaven's hands. It was bobbing a little, as if on a current, and with some effort the pilot lessened its movements. It weighed a kilogram. He wasn't sure how much he could lift, but it was certainly enough effort to lift little things. He knew almost nothing about the Force.

It had been a week since Jan had tried to contact him in the Geonosian system. Kaven was trying to get used to the pirates, but he doubted that he ever would. They were chaotic and unfettered, too different from the regimented lifestyle he had grown up in. They had not attacked any ships yet, though the pilot was sure that Argent had something in mind.

Kaven's lips parted and he sucked in a breath. Another battery rose from the table and joined the first, swaying gently as the first still did.

He could feel the lives of the pirates around the ship; most of them were asleep. He was growing in the Force, and could sense things with greater clarity these days. When he had his moments alone he thought about the Force, in amazement and intimidation and attraction. He was twenty-five years old, and he had gone his entire life not knowing that he was capable of...what? He didn't know what secrets the Force held.

His dreams were growing more chaotic and confused, and memories mixed with things that had never happened before, with hopes and fears. He did not know what would become of himself, and the uncertainty disturbed him. In his dreams he was a Jedi sometimes, and sometimes he was...something else. He wielded a red lightsaber and led Stormtroopers into battle amid blood and flame, drawing from a part of him so dark that it brought the dreams into nightmare territory. On those nights he had awoken in a cold sweat, and had not fallen asleep again for a long time.

He let the batteries sink to the table, and then sagged. He was in a time of turmoil, uncertain of his future, his present, and ill-prepared to become a student of the Force. Though that might change when he reached Feladorn, at the present Kaven had no master and no guiding force to teach him. Nothing seemed safe anymore. He was in over his head. Of course he was having nightmares.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Kaven gazed down at the holoprojector that Jan had given him. Should he tell his brother that he could use the Force-and that Jan, too, was a Force-sensitive? That they had it in them to become Jedi?

After some thought, he decided not to. That could wait-right now, it might just cause more problems. If it got out that Jan could use the Force, they might hand him over to the Reborn division for training as a Dark Jedi. As long as he stayed below the radar, Kaven decided, his brother would be safe.

He hoped.

* * *

When the pale blue holograph of his older brother formed, Jan breathed a sigh of relief. Erril looked a little sleepless, but otherwise seemed all right. "Good to see nothing's happened," he said.

"Your timing's better this time," Erril remarked. "Last week you called just as I was heading into an asteroid field. Not a good place for conversation."

"Why would you do that?"

"I was escaping a bounty hunter," his brother told him, putting his hands on his hips. "I managed to leave her behind around Geonosis. Hey-do you know an officer named Verdan? Probably not, but...a lieutenant, in the Stormtrooper Corps? He's a little taller than me, with black hair. A young guy. He's had a slash scar on his left cheek-" the pilot drew a finger in a horizontal line about three centimetres long, "-for about a month."

"Sorry, Erril." Jan shook his head. "I don't know anybody by the name of Verdan. Why?"

"He's after me. Look, maybe-"

The hairs on the back of Jan's neck rose, and he got the impression of a very familiar presence coming nearer. "Wait!" he hissed. "I can't talk now. Maldict's coming-"

"Who's that?"

"He's-I'll tell you later." The lieutenant turned the holoprojector off and shoved it in his pocket, his mind racing. The room he stood in wasn't much more than a platform and catwalk, and a _very _long drop into the ventilation system. It was obviously a place to make a private call, and he doubted that he could come up with anything to convince the commander that his being there was innocent. A mind-trick was possible, but Maldict was strong-willed. It might not work, and then Jan would _really _be in trouble.

He didn't want to be stuck alone in this isolated room trying to explain himself, especially since Maldict had almost caught him at trying to get through to his brother, and to someone under Admiral Makar's jurisdiction. He had had to abort both tries.

Another thought surfaced, one that stated plainly that he just didn't feel comfortable in Commander Maldict's presence. The man was a snake, and Jan didn't like the way he looked at him.

Heart pounding, the young lieutenant looked around for any place to hide, or something innocent to do. His gaze lit on the grates below his feet, and immediately he bent and pulled at one. It lifted.

He looked up at the sound of voices in the corridor outside, and then pulled the grate off and stepped in.

There wasn't much room underneath, but there was just enough for a slim man to lie amid the cables, cramped but not uncomfortable. Jan, fortunately, was small enough to fit, and he reached up and pulled the grate back into place as the voices grew louder.

_I must be insane, _he thought, drawing back into the shadows beneath the floor as he listened to the door to the room slide open.

The door hissed shut, and a beep followed it. Maldict had locked the door.

The hard click of his heels came closer, until he was nearly standing on top of the place where Jan lay. There was a rustle of fabric, and the sound of a holoprojector being activated.

"Maldict, this is a surprise," someone's voice said. Jan didn't recognize it, but it was definitely an imperial officer's voice. A man, maybe somewhere in his late thirties. "I suppose this isn't about pleasantries, however. What is it you want?"

"Has the _Imperial Dawn _received any transmissions from Lambda Station or Tel Sharis as of late?" the commander asked.

"We received one three days ago. I imagine you know that already, as you sent it yourself."

"But no others?"

"None. What is this about?"

"This is about your lost pilot, Thule."

_Captain Thule? _Jan wondered, and listened carefully.

"Erril Kaven?" Thule's voice was tinged with frost. "What about him?"

"I have his younger brother at my command here. Ever since the fighting on Tel Sharis ended, I suspect that he's been trying to investigate the case. He requested a transfer to one of the army units affiliated with Admiral Makar's fleet."

"I should hope that he was refused."

"He was. Directly after that, he requested to be sent planetside, back to Tel Sharis. It's a bug-infested hellhole of a planet-three of the troopers expired from blood loss in the first week. No sane being would want to be sent there. All it's good for is a little...privacy. I needn't explain."

"No, of course not. You've been keeping the young man on the space station, then?"

"Yes-I've been watching him. He's easy on the eyes, and a promising officer."

A chill went down Jan's spine at the words _easy on the eyes._

Thule's voice sharpened. "But more obedient than his brother?"

"Yes. He'll do as I say."

"As long as you keep your eye on him. What has he found out?"

"Nothing. He claims that his brother is a traitor to the Empire, but I doubt he believes it. If he thinks that Erril was framed, however, he's given no indication."

"He mustn't find out a single thing," Thule hissed. "As far as he's concerned, the damned pilot defected to the Republic and escaped on Kuan. That is the image that you-and I-must preserve."

_Traitors, _Jan thought in wonderment. _They're _both _traitors. They framed Erril and sold out to the New Republic. No wonder Telan IV was taken so quickly. _After the mountainous planet was lost, the Empire's forces had retreated to Tel Sharis, where they had dug their heels in. The lieutenant's eyes narrowed. _But why Erril?_

"The troops taken to Kuan can attest to the fact that the young man ran off and was taken by Republic forces. That's perfect, isn't it?"

"Not if his brother screws it all up!" the naval captain snapped. "He's a potential wrench in the gears. He must be removed from the situation."

A cold feeling settled in the pit of Jan's stomach. _They're not going to..._

Maldict tapped his foot. "No, no. As long as he remains ignorant of the deal, he can live. If he becomes a problem, though, well, Tel Sharis is a very dangerous place." He sounded unconvinced.

"Hmm." Thule did not sound particularly pleased by that. "Keep a very close watch on him, Maldict, and make sure he doesn't get a chance to investigate a single circumstance. Regarding his brother, however...a few bounty hunters have been hired to see to it that he does not return to the Empire."

"I see," said the commander, tonelessly.

Jan put a hand over his mouth. _Oh, Erril, _he thought. _I hope your luck holds._ _I hope _my _luck holds. _

He would have to warn his brother, when he got the chance-but would he ever get the chance? He felt more caged than ever now, but was glad to have overheard this. It was a red flag, and he might have really walked into it otherwise.

Erril would have to be warned, and then Jan would just have to wait until the Tel Sharis campaign was over. He would behave himself, be a perfectly obedient little officer, avoid investigating any further, and politely decline the topic of promotion if the commander brought it up. Then, when he got leave next, he could take off and act at will.

And then, he would _ruin _Maldict and Thule.

Above him, the traitorous officers exchanged a few more words, which were merely formalities, and then Maldict shut off the holoprojector with a sigh. There was a rustle of cloth, and then the commander turned and walked back to the door, his heels hard and loud on the floor. There was a beep, and then the door slid open, then shut.

Jan waited a few more minutes, until he felt safer, and then reached up and shoved the grate up. After some wriggling he could sit up again, and he climbed out and replaced the covering. He straightened, brushing dust off of his uniform, and ran a hand through his dark hair, paused, and then slapped the dust out of it as well. He replaced his cap as he went to the door. The situation was more serious than he had thought; his actual _life _was on the line now; if anyone saw him coming out of the room and asked, he would use the mind-trick and _make _them forget they saw him. He didn't like playing about with people's minds in such a way, but he would if he had to.

There was no one in the corridor, and he relaxed a bit.

Maldict had to sleep sometime, and while he was deposed Jan would make the necessary call to his brother and warn him that there were bounty hunters on his tail-and that he was not to be taken alive. In the meantime, he would shower, and wait, and plan.

* * *

At the first soft hum from the inner breast pocket of his jacket, Kaven opened an eye sleepily. When the noise came again he yawned and drew it out, sitting up and turning it on. "Jan? You're all right?"

The little holograph of his brother looked fine, but his expression was very serious. "Erril, I don't have much time," he said, "so just listen to me. There are bounty hunters after you, and they're going to try to kill you. They've been hired by the Empire."

Kaven started. "What? But Verdan's orders are to take me alive."

"It's Thule, Erril. Captain Thule and Commander Maldict-they're traitors, they're the ones that framed you." The lieutenant's expression darkened. "Thule's hired the bounty hunters himself."

Kaven was frowning as well. "Knowing him, everyone thinks they'll just capture me and bring me back, if they know about it at all. But then I resisted arrest, and...how tragic." He brought a hand down on his knee in frustration. "That bastard! I'll kill him!" He saw Jan's expression change. His brother was nervous about something. "Jan, what?"

"Maldict is the commander here at Lambda Station. He's in charge of the Tel Sharis campaign, and he's been keeping an eye on me. I overheard him and the captain talking-I think they're going to kill _me _if I get caught investigating. Maldict won't let me out of his sight..."

The pilot took a breath. "Jan, I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

Kaven let it out, his mind racing. "I need you to stop investigating this case _now_. Look, just call it quits," he added hurriedly, as the lieutenant opened his mouth to protest. "I'm going to be gone for quite some time, and I'm going to be getting-" Jedi training. "-specialized training. And then I'll be back in the game."

"Erril-"

"_Please, _Jan. This is important. I don't want anything to happen to you, and-and when I get trained up, I'll be ready to handle myself." Hopefully. "So, please. I'm begging you, Jan-be safe and stop investigating. Be a good little officer, do what they tell you to do, pretend your brother's a traitor-_and let him handle it._"

His heart was pounding now; he knew his younger brother, and when Jan didn't think something was right, he could be downright bloody-minded, and right now it could get him killed.

The lieutenant was silent for a long time, his arms crossed sullenly, staring at the pilot. Then he asked, "What kind of training's going to allow you to bypass imperial security and involve spywork, Erril?"

"Very _special _training."

Jan stared hard at him. Then his eyes widened. "Not _Anzati-_?"

"No, no! Not Anzati training, I'm not going anywhere near Anzat. Just trust me, it's special training, and I'll tell you all about it when we meet again...in person. Just trust me."

The image of his brother flickered, and Jan sighed deeply. "All right. I promise. I'll let it go."

"And I'll need you to stop trying to contact me. I'll be out in the sticks, you won't reach me anyway. But I'll find a way to get to you when I'm ready."

"Fine. I can't act while Maldict's around anyway." The officer glanced away. "We've already talked too long. Take care, Erril. Love you."

The holograph winked out, and Kaven held it in his hand, leaning against his forehead with a sigh of his own. "I love you, too, Jan," he said.

There was a soft rustle of cloth nearby. "Your brother's handsome, too."

The pilot looked up to see Min sitting on a tarpaulin-covered crate. Her legs were crossed, and she held her chin in her hands. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" he asked.

"Nope. It'll be my turn to pilot in a few minutes," the Twi'lek told him. "You and your brother really look out for each other, don't you?"

Kaven sat back, regarding her. "He's my brother. Don't _you _have any siblings?"

The girl shrugged. "Dunno. If I do, I've never met 'em. I was a slave up until the point when Captain Argent killed my master. After that, he felt sorry for me and took me on board." She straightened and smiled widely. "I _like _being a pirate. Nobody owns you. And then I get to wear a blaster and drive the ship sometimes, and use the rear guns, and I even boarded another ship once."

At that a thin smile touched the pilot's lips. Their lives were polar opposites.

"So you're going to Feladorn for Jedi training?" Min demanded, before he could reply. "Don't look so surprised, Erril. I've _seen _you use the Force. You make things float."

"Er, yes. That's right."

"Why didn't you tell your brother that? Maybe he can use it, too."

"He can; that's why I didn't tell him. He'll be in trouble if certain people find out that he can use the Force."

"And you hate the Republic."

"Hm?"

"You hate the Republic," Min repeated. "So maybe he wouldn't like it if he found out you were going to train with Jedi, since they _work _for the Republic and all."

Kaven nodded. "The one I'm going to talk to is nonpartisan. I just need them to teach me how to use the Force...and, well, Jedi lore wouldn't hurt."

"Maybe they can teach you how to be a proper fugitive," she said, with a mischievous grin.

"What?"

"You're imperial a mile away. You know-" here the pirate actually shifted into an upper class Coruscanti accent reminiscent of Kaven's. "-yew tock like yoh from the Empiyah, woak like yoh from the Empiyah, keep a stiff uppah lip and act propah and imperial and stand up straight and yew cahn't pronounce yoh ahhs..."

"I'm not _that _bad!"

"No, I like the way you talk. But the way you stand, and walk, and do things, you're an imperial officer. I can tell. It's like police out of uniform."

"Bloody-" Kaven paused for a split second, then decided that given the company she kept, Min had probably heard it all twice. "-bloody hell."

"If you loosened up, it wouldn't be so obvious. Or maybe you're just uncomfortable around us dirty pirates, eh?"

"Well, there is a marked difference in lifestyle..."

"Hah! Told you." The Twi'lek girl unfolded her legs and slid down from the crate. "Stick with us, and we'll teach you things. By the way, you'd better get some sleep, handsome. You're gonna have a _lot _to do tomorrow."

The officer sighed. "All right."

* * *

Another week passed. It went by quite slowly for Jan, who grew more resentful of the space station with each passing day. It would not have been so bad if he were allowed to leave every now and then, or if Maldict would just leave him alone. It wasn't as though the older man harassed him or even went out of his way to talk to him, but the young officer was certain of his suspicions and keeping the masquerade was risky. He hoped that Erril was taking care of himself, and thought often of his brother.

The steady click of footsteps caught his attention now and he snapped out of it, straightening up and turning away from where he had been staring out the window in thought. There was an officer approaching him, a naval captain, and it was obvious that he meant to talk to Jan.

"Lieutenant Kaven."

He stood at attention. "Sir."

"You've been given a change of assignment," the man told him, coming to a halt before him. "We have received word of a Rebel force approaching. You will return planetside at 0700 hours and resume your ordinary duties. With one exception."

"Yes, sir?"

"You are to be Commander Maldict's aide."

_Oh, hell, _the lieutenant thought, but instead said, "I understand."

"Good. Your departure will be in bay two. I needn't remind you to be punctual."

"No, sir. I won't be late."

After the captain had departed and he was alone in the corridor, Jan turned back to the window and swore. It didn't improve things any, but it made him feel a little better. He removed his clenched fists from the sill and started for his quarters.

* * *

The ship, a modified corvette from the Old Republic, exploded in a brief burst of flame. Its companion followed a moment later, and Kaven said, "That does it for those bounty hunters. Nothing personal, but they should have left dogfighting to the experts."

"You know, you're not a bad pilot," said Argent, who was standing behind him with one hand on his hip and the other on the back of the seat. "I might even let you join the crew if you asked nicely, even if you're too clean-cut for a pirate."

The pilot shook his head. "No. I'm only going with you as far as Feladorn."

The Kowakian monkey-lizard cackled at that. "Suit yourself," said the pirate captain. "Prepare for the jump to hyperspace. You'll have your first taste of piracy soon enough."

"Yes, sir." Kaven reached out and began to input the coordinates, wondering not for the first time what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

The walkway of the imperial shuttle lowered, and Commander Maldict stepped down, followed by his aide and the usual contingent of Stormtroopers.

Maldict stopped and regarded the command post silently. There was no wind that day, not even a breeze, and the humid heat settled on them like a blanket. The hum of insect life surrounded them, and the area had a biological aura so pervasive that it could be felt physically.

"Your quarters are in corridor 8C of the easternmost wing, Commander. I am to escort you there whenever you're ready," said Jan. He could feel a sheen of moisture beginning to form on his skin already, and he felt sorry for the Stormtroopers. They had to be collectively boiling in their armour.

"No rush," the older man said. The lieutenant followed him as he walked deeper into the encampment. The place was buzzing with activity as the imperial troops went about their duties, and out of the corner of his eye Jan caught a glimpse of a Stormtrooper suddenly jumping and slapping at the back of his armour.

_Streeg bite, _he thought, sympathetic. The feeling was akin to being stabbed with a hatpin. Jan had suffered a few bites as well, and each had given him a welt the size of a quarter. Sniping Streegs had become very popular among the troopers.

Then he came out of his reverie as he realized that Maldict had addressed him. "Er, what was that, sir?"

They came to a halt near a tree with outreaching branches. "I said, I cannot imagine why one would prefer Tel Sharis to a space station," the commander repeated. "What's so good about being planetside?"

"It's nice and private," Jan said without thinking, and Maldict's gaze sharpened a bit. "That is, it's quiet and pretty secluded," he added hastily. "It's not very open, sir, is what I mean. Strategically speaking, perhaps an open place is better, but I find this jungle...sort of nice. Aside from some of the insect life. And animal life."

"Hmm." Despite the jungle heat, Jan felt a chill go up his back at that tone; Captain Thule had had the very same one during his conversation with the commander. "Well, to each his own. I-what is _that?_"

His aide followed his gaze to where a strange creature sat on the tree branch nearest to them. It was about six inches long, with coarse, dark grey fur and little naked hands and feet. Three beady red eyes looked down at them as it chewed thoughtfully on a piece of fruit it had apparently dragged onto the branch. Two tufts of fur on its lower jaw gave it the appearance of an underbite.

"Oh, that," he said. "It's a Kishi, sir. They're kind of vermin, since they'll eat anything, but they're not dangerous."

"They don't seem at all afraid of people."

"I guess they haven't had any reason to be." Tel Sharis was completely uninhabited by sentient creatures.

To his mild surprise Maldict drew his blaster from its holster and fired at the little rodent, which dropped its fruit and fled. "They'll learn to be," he said with some finality, holstering the weapon.

Jan frowned and looked away. "Let me show you to your quarters, sir," he said.

* * *

Elsewhere, Erril Kaven had taken his first taste of piracy, as Captain Argent had put it, and did not at all find it to his taste.

They had boarded an innocent-looking New Republic ship, and to the pirates' delight it had turned out to be a smugglers' vessel. The crew of the ship were currently, to a being, unconscious or dead-Kaven had set his blaster to stun, but he doubted that the pirates employed such niceties-and the crew of the Rogue was finishing its search.

It was one thing to board an enemy ship during a space battle, the pilot decided, with the intention of seizing or blowing the thing up, but it was quite another to do...this. He didn't like it. The ship and its crew may have been New Republicans, but he didn't support piracy, and he had spent the last six years as part of a force keeping the imperial sectors _safe _from it.

Now he was aiding the bloody pirates. Damn.

It was distasteful. He shook his head at that thought, and decided: _Dis_honourable, _I think, is the word I'm looking for. Disreputable, too._

They finished stripping the ship of its more valuable cargo, boarded the Rogue, and blasted out into space. Kaven breathed a sigh of relief that it was over and rubbed his hands on the legs of his trousers as if to rid himself of the grubby feeling he had accumulated.

He watched through the window as the Republic ship grew smaller and farther away, and from behind him the pirate captain said, "Heard you were setting your blaster to stun, Erril. Why's that?"

Kaven looked over his shoulder. "Why not? There was no need to kill them."

Argent pinched the bridge of his nose. "You didn't do them any favours."

"I...suppose not. They'll wake up eventually...and the rest of the crew will be dead..."

The captain shook his head, blonde hair flying. "That's not what I'm getting at, rookie. You weren't doing them any favours because _they're going to die anyway._"

"Huh?"

Argent nodded toward Rico, who held a remote of some kind. "We're far enough now. Do it."

Kaven's head turned back to the window like a whip-crack. "_Wait, don't-_"

The ship detonated. For a brief moment their faces were illuminated in the flare, like a sunset, and then it faded.

Having felt something like a disturbance in the Force during that moment, Kaven groaned and clutched the sill with white-knuckled hands. He had felt disturbances before; he had begun to feel them as a teenager.

"Not much different from what you're used to," said Argent, raising an eyebrow at his reaction. "You've seen ships go down before."

The pilot stiffened. "This isn't the battlefield," he hissed. "You didn't have to..."

He trailed off. The pirate captain was silent for some time, and then said, "You expected us to board them, rob them, and then take off without harming a single soul on that ship, I guess. Has it occurred to you, rookie, that we are actual _pirates_, called scum and villainy for a _reason_?That this is not some cheap holodrama?"

Kaven didn't answer, and crossed his arms. He was still staring resolutely out the window, where pieces of burnt scrap metal were slowly spiralling away.

"No, this is not the battlefield. But that doesn't change anything. Had it been the other way around...imperials boarding a ship, killing the crew, and then blowing it up...it would have been okay, I guess. Right?"

The pilot's silence continued.

Argent turned away. "Think about that," he said as he left, and the door hissed shut behind him.

Kaven slowly collapsed into a sitting position against the wall, with his elbows resting on his knees.

Outside the window the stars became streaks, which in turn became the blue-white swirl of hyperspace.

* * *

On Tel Sharis, it was another hot night.

The air was steamy and close, not quite like a sauna, and although it was just past midnight the difference between night and day was just a matter of light. The jungle planet was a world of rich resources of all kinds, only possibly barring cortosis, but that didn't make it any more pleasant a posting.

Jan glanced at the thermometer from where he sat on the edge of his bunk. It was forty-one degrees inside; no wonder he couldn't sleep. He got up and put his trousers on, slipped into his boots, and went out into the hall, not bothering with the rest of his uniform. He was off duty, and it was bloody hot.

He went outside and onto the roof, where there would be at least some breeze, and found another figure there already, a woman with short blonde hair. Jan deliberately brought his foot down a little hard on the last step, making a crunching noise. Lieutenant Nalian turned a little, her hands in her pockets, and said, "You know, I'd sleep out here if it wouldn't mean my death."

"So would I." Jan looked skyward, where flashes of light hinted at the battle going on up there. The rebels had attacked again three hours before, but they hadn't managed to get past the planetary blockade as of yet. He knew that he needed to get as much rest as he could in case they did manage to get planetside, and he _was _tired, but he had spent the last two hours rolling around in fatigued frustration and that wouldn't change if he went right back to bed.

"We're rather more friendly with one another than the average officers, aren't we?" Nalian said, after some time.

"I guess so," Jan answered, seeing that she was meaning to lead into something and hoping that it didn't involve anything awkward. Nalian already had a boyfriend on Entralla, though, so it wasn't likely to be something along those lines.

"So do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Uh...go ahead..."

"Why is it that Commander Maldict picked you to be his aide?" she asked, turning to him fully. She wore a look of curiosity. "I was expecting someone else. Not that I was hoping for it to be me," the woman added. "I caught him looking at my chest once, and I know he's got a reputation for, uh, sleeping around. But why you, Jan? You've got a pretty decent record for the two years you've served, but aides don't get picked for combat records."

Jan shook his head. "He wants to keep an eye on me. My brother...erm...defected to the Republic recently, and I guess it makes me worth watching."

"I see. Easiest way to keep you close, I guess. Is...that all?"

"Hmm?"

"Well...you're..." Nalian stopped to think about what she was going to say, and then just shook her head. "Never mind. Stars' End, those poor troopers must be _roasting_."

Jan decided to let the sudden topic change go. "Agreed." He watched the Stormtroopers on patrol move around the compound for a while, an idea surfacing, and he began to take serious note of their movement patterns. The patrols alternated so that the same routes got used every other night, and there was a different set for the days. After some time he spotted a blind spot in the patrols. If he needed to make a transmission, he could make it there.

He became aware of a high-pitched whine growing closer. Then, just as it grew a little too close for comfort, the sound was suddenly cut off by a clap from Nalian.

He turned his head and saw her regarding her surprisingly bloody palms with distaste. "Uh! It must have gotten someone else before," she said. "Well, serves it right for being greedy. I'd better wash this off before the smell attracts more of them. Good night, Jan."

Jan murmured in kind and turned his attentions back to the patrols as she went back inside. There were gaps there.

He brightened a little. He could _use _those.

* * *

From where he stood at the computer terminals Kaven heard the whispers of the pirates, who were discussing what was to be done with the cargo they had taken on.

"Bram," said of them. It sounded like a being's name to the pilot.

Argent grunted a negative. "Last I heard, he was rotting away in an imperial jail cell."

"What about Vin Starling?" asked Stele. She was the pale blue Twi'lek woman, and Captain Argent's girlfriend of several years. "He's great. He knows about two dozen fences."

"He's also on the other side of the galaxy," said the pirate captain. "But I'll keep him in mind for the spice. Hold that thought-we know somebody in the scrap business out here. Toma. He's got a garage on Falar...he's always ready to buy. Especially cortosis."

_Cortosis, _Kaven thought. _Always valuable. But especially right now, seems to me..._

"You could sell that cortosis to the Empire," he volunteered.

He felt their eyes on the back of his neck. "If the Empire pays us more, yeah," said Min, who was surprisingly trade-savvy for a twelve-year-old. "But they always try to double-cross us. Like that jerk officer on Muunilist."

"Anybody coming to mind, Erril?"

"Of course not. I've kept my hands clean."

Argent looked to Stele and winked. "Of course. You're the prim and proper one here," he said, getting up. He began to sidle toward the pilot, who was still busy with the computer. "Of course you don't know any fences. Not a streak of larceny in you."

"Not a drop of piracy," Min chimed in.

"So lawful," the pale Twi'lek added.

Kaven's hands stopped moving. "You all act as though criminality _should _be my job," he said, affronted. He'd taken such ribbing from the time he'd run aboard. "I'm an imperial officer. And I'm not _prim_. Compared to you lot, maybe, but I'm not a stuffed shirt-"

The captain came a little closer. "You know, you really oughta loosen up," he said, and actually slapped Kaven on the bottom. The officer jumped and whirled, giving Argent a wary, startled look. Min put both hands to her mouth and giggled, and the monkey-lizard screamed raucous laughter at him. Argent returned to the table. Kaven flushed to the roots of his hair at the laughter around him, and turned back to the consoles.

"Which planet?" he asked grudgingly, wishing that the monkey-lizard would shut up.

"Falar," the captain told him.

"All right." He brought up the hyperspace coordinates and began to enter them.

* * *

The last flash in the sky came a few hours before dawn a few nights later, and after that there were no more. After the commander had emerged from his quarters Jan informed him that the Republic forces had been defeated by Admiral Dyer's fleet and had retreated into hyperspace.

Commander Maldict nodded approvingly at the figures his aide brought up. "Good. operation will continue unhindered, then."

Jan snuck a sidelong glance at him as they walked down the corridor. He wasn't sure of what his next assignment would be after Tel Sharis, but it would remain under his current command, i.e. Maldict. Unless he wanted to be the man's aide on that assignment, too, he would have to prove himself to be mindlessly loyal to the Empire. The older officer would weigh every word he spoke. He would have to choose his words carefully.

"It's unfortunate that your brother defected," Maldict said suddenly. "He was one of the Empire's best pilots. At the Battle of Salamand he broke a record for number of ships shot down, I heard. Incredible."

"Yes. He was promoted to captain after that."

"He became quite distinguished. What was the reason for his defection, do you think?"

"I wouldn't know, sir."

"He never gave any indication of his plans?"

"No, sir."

"It wasn't apparent even to his brother." Jan felt Maldict's eye on him. The older man's eyes were dark, but at that moment the lieutenant felt that yellow would have suited him better. "And with family being so important, too."

"Not family that commits treason," Jan said firmly, determined not to show up on this man's radar.

Maldict looked away, and the lieutenant swore that he saw a smile for the briefest moment. "That's very loyal of you, Lieutenant Kaven." He reached up and put a hand on his aide's shoulder, and the young man had to consciously stop himself pulling away. "I'm sure your career will be a successful one."

"Yes," Jan said. "I hope so."

* * *

That night he snuck out to one of the patrols' blind spots, out of the range of the troopers and surveillance systems, and tried to make contact with Admiral Makar. Unfortunately, the man was not available. Though he could probably get through to one of Erril's superiors, he was not about to trust any of them. Thule was the number one person after Maldict that Jan did not want the attention of, and talking to anyone else was to risk them reporting to their ship's captain. He racked his brain for anyone that would be safe enough to talk to.

Then it hit him. Erril's wing mates, Roon Sarda and Kore Berradeen. They had been with him ever since he had become a squadron leader. Erril never stayed formal for long; if they didn't know him in a personal way, Jan would be quite surprised.

He tried Roon first, and after a moment the woman answered, dressed in a singlet and shorts and sporting a sleepy, rumpled look.

She patted her rooster-tails. "Muh? Jan, is that you? Why are you calling _me?_"

"Sorry to wake you," he said. "It's about Erril. What do you know about what's happened?"

The pilot began to wake up at that. "Are you talking about Kuan? That was almost three months ago."

"What happened?"

"It was weird-when the ship was attacked, Erril was slow to answer, so Kore and I were ordered to get into our TIEs and leave ahead of him. The ship was boarded a few minutes later, and there was still no sign of the captain. Then we heard that he had gone with the other pilots to the South Kuan shipyards, but he never came back." Roon sighed. "Then it turned out that he had joined the Republic. I never saw that coming; he hates it like there's no tomorrow."

"Do you really think he defected?"

The woman considered. "I don't know," she admitted at last. "He was in rebel hands the last anyone saw of him. But I _know _him, I've flown with him, I've-" She cleared her throat. "Ahem. They said that he defected, but that seems...wrong. He'd never work with the Republic."

"What about Kore? Does he think that Erril defected?"

"Oh, he's angry, but I don't know if it's _at _the captain or if he thinks it's a big lie. We haven't talked about it."

Jan bit his lip. "He's been framed."

Roon's eyes widened. "Why of all the low-down-"

"I can't tell you any more than that right now. But you must believe me, Erril did _not _commit treason, and he's trying to get things together right now."

"You've talked to him?"

"Yes. He's getting some sort of specialized training, I don't know what kind. There are bounty hunters after him, so I hope he knows what he's doing. But I must ask you not to mention this to anyone. Could you speak to Admiral Makar if you had the chance?"

"Uh, _if _I had the chance." Roon ran a hand through her hair. "Pardon my Corellian, but he's busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest these days. He always made time to see people before, but not so much now."

"I see..."

"I could talk to people, if you need it."

"No, don't. Don't do anything to attract attention-your ship is not the safest place right now. We'll have to...wait for Erril."

"To finish his training? But it's been almost three months!"

"I want him back, too. But I can't risk anything more than this right now. In fact, we've probably been talking too long. When I hear more from him, I'll contact you."

The pilot sighed. "All right. I'll just have to be patient. And you take care of yourself, Jan-Erril would have a fit if anything happened to you."

Jan nodded. "Yes. I know."

He shut the holoprojector off and slipped it back into his pocket with a sigh of his own. Then he turned and went back to the base.

After he had left, a small shape that Jan had taken for a large beetle detached itself from the wall, spread its mechanical wings, and flew away.

* * *

Maldict heard the hum of the tiny droid coming through the window and turned as it flew in. He extended a hand, and it landed on his wrist. A shutter opened on its back.

The officer watched the recording.

"Thought so," he said.

* * *

The Rogue touched down on a landing pad near the garage of the pirates' contact, Toma. Captain Argent put a few pieces of the cortosis they had acquired into Min's backpack, and as a group they left, leaving four behind to watch the ship.

Stele and Argent were walking ahead, discussing price and trade and fences. At Min's side Kaven looked around as he walked. Falar reminded him of Ord Mantell, covered in junkyards and spaceports. Of all the beings present, only a handful were humans, and most of those humans were members of Captain Argent's crew. The pirates didn't stick out at all in this rough world, and Kaven tried to slouch a little as he walked, though he was well aware that he was the black nerf in the crowd.

He wasn't sure what this Toma looked like, but from the pirates' reactions as they walked into the garage, these beings were not what they were expecting.

There were five of them, all aliens except for one coarse, unshaven human.

The pirates stopped. "Bounty hunters," Stele muttered under her breath. The hunters turned to them. A Weequay, a Kubaz, an Iktotchi, a human, and a Gand. All male, rough, and scarred. Definitely bounty hunters.

The human chuckled. "Told ya they'd show up eventually."

The Iktotchi's eyes moved over the group, stopping for a moment on Kaven. Then he looked back to the pirate captain. "You're...Captain Argent," he said. He seemed to be the group leader. "You and your crew are worth several million credits together. But you're not the one we're after." He looked to Kaven again.

"We could take 'em all anyway," said the Gand. He was swathed from head to toe in dusty brown robes, and his facial mask gleamed a little in the light. He held a blaster rifle that seemed almost too big for him. "Five-way split."

"So you're after the rookie," Argent said. "Couldn't be luck that you found him here with us." Nobody was about to shake down Mira and force information from her, and she never went back on a deal. Mira never ratted out a paying customer.

Kaven was staring at the bounty hunters, wondering what was familiar. Then it hit him. The Kubaz! "You, you were in the Frozen Nebula!" he exclaimed. The alien must have seen him leave with the pirates. "How'd you follow us, you little scumbag!"

The Kubaz buzzed in annoyance, but the Iktotchi waved his hand. "My kind is given to visions," he said simply, by way of explanation. The pilot recalled that the aliens were indeed clairvoyant, and nodded grudgingly. The bounty hunter looked to Argent again. "We are after Erril Kaven. If you are willing to give him up peacefully, we will take him and leave. If not..." The hunters shifted their weapons. "...then we will negotiate. Forcefully."

There was a subtle shift from the pirates. "Tempting," said the captain. "How much is it worth?"

Kaven suddenly found himself holding his breath. Argent wouldn't sell him out...would he?

"It's worth a peaceful departure," the leader said. "But the bounty...ah. One million."

"Hmm." Argent seemed to consider that. "But you know, he's got places to be."

"They're probably going to try to shoot us anyway, if they got you," Min whispered in Kaven's ear, or tried to. Standing on tiptoes took her to his shoulder.

"They look like the sorts," he whispered back.

"So what'd you do to Toma?" Stele asked. "Seems unprofessional to kill him."

"He's safe. And he'll stay safe, _if _we leave with Kaven."

"You don't want me," Kaven told them, waving a hand.

"We don't want him," the human said, a dazed look on his face.

The Iktotchi looked hurriedly at him, and realization lit his face. "You weak-minded murglak!" he hissed. "That was a mind-trick! He used a Jedi mind-trick on you!"

At that moment Argent drew his blaster and shot the alien in one smooth movement, and then the pirates all began to fire at once. Kaven's shot hit the human directly in the chest, and he fell over on his back, blaster rifle clattering away. Caught in the surprise fire, all of the bounty hunters except one fell-the Weequay, whose skin was tough enough to withstand blaster bolts even at close range.

Wrinkled face drawn tight with pain, the alien raised his blaster and took aim at the person closest to him.

Kaven had seen it coming. "Min, look out!" he shouted, as the bounty hunter's finger tightened on the trigger. There was no time to leap forward and grab her and pull her out of the way, so he used the Force to spin her around so that she took the shot on her back.

"Eek!"

Under the combined fire of the pirates, the Weequay finally fell. There was struck silence and the smell of ozone.

"You okay?" Kaven asked the Twi'lek girl, who blinked.

"He shot me in the back. Why aren't I dead?"

The pilot smiled wanly and tapped a backpack strap with one finger. "Cortosis."

She took the backpack off and examined the burnt hole in it. The shot hadn't even made a dent in the metal. "Cool."

Stele turned to Argent. "Toma's got to be around here somewhere," she said. "Only, he keeps so many nooks around. It'll take days to search the place properly."

Kaven straightened. "We'll ask that guy," he said, pointing to the human bounty hunter.

The pirate captain looked at him. "But you shot the-no. Let me guess. Blaster's set to stun again."

"Just for the one shot. He's weak-minded-he'll tell me everything."

"You know, you've got to stop doing that. Set your blaster to kill for once."

The pilot kicked the blasters aside, and then knelt at the human's side. "Sure, Captain." He looked down at the man, and then slapped him across the face. "Hey, you. Wake up!"

The hunter groaned and opened his eyes. Then they flew open fully, and he tried to get up. Argent planted a foot on his chest and shoved him back down, and the bounty hunter found himself looking up the barrel of a blaster.

"Where's Toma?" the pirate captain asked.

"He's, uh..." The man gave him a defiant look.

Kaven used the mind-trick again. "You will tell me where Toma is," he said, waving a hand.

"I will tell you where Toma is," the hunter agreed. "He's in the back storage room. Been there for hours. There's a code for the keypad."

"You will tell me what the code is."

"I will tell you what the code is. The code, the code, it's...uh... 284871690. A sentry will shoot you in the head if you get it wrong."

Min went to the back storage, looked at the sentry there, shifted the backpack to her head, and began to input the code. She made no mistakes, though, and the door slid open without incident.

A woeful-looking old man stood up from where he had been inside, sitting on a crate full of ore, and trundled out. "I knew you folks were trouble," he said, though without much venom. "I imagine you're 'specting to sell me your latest haul?"

"Yup," Min replied. There was the sound of a shot as Argent ended the bounty hunter's career.

"Well, you're going to wait. Do you know how long I was in there? Hours. And nature is _calling._" He shuffled off.

The pirates sat down, surprisingly casual for the fact that a firefight had happened not five minutes past. "Used to this, are you?" Kaven asked.

"Spend ten years as a pirate and tell me if it's pomp to you then."

The pilot sat down as well, on a broken-down power droid. "I'll stick with the navy," he said.

After a few minutes Toma came out again, and the pirates went to confer with him over selling prices. Min and Kaven remained in the shop.

"What?" the pilot asked, when he noticed that Min was smiling at him. "Have I got something on my face?"

"You're pretty cool for an imperial officer," the Twi'lek said.

"It's a pilot thing."

"Are pilots this handsome, too?"

Kaven looked at her. "You know, I'm twenty-five. Isn't that a little old for you?"

She shrugged. "Give me a few years."

He laughed. "You're terrible." He would mention the difference in species, but...well...that had never stopped him pursuing a woman. Togruta especially tended to turn his head. And the species difference wouldn't likely matter to Min, who was used to seeing Stele and Argent.

"In a few years I'll be a pirate queen," she said.

"But in the present, Min, it's just too much cradle-robbing."

"Cradle-robbing! I'll have you know I'm going to turn thirteen in a few months!"

"That's the point. I'm nearly thirteen years _older _than you."

"Huh! Just you wait till I'm twenty-you won't be able to resist me!"

Life had sure gotten interesting, Kaven mused, as he and Min argued good-naturedly. In the last three months he had escaped rebels, stolen a ship, danced for a Hutt's pleasure, evaded bounty hunters, hitched a ride with pirates, and was now being hit on periodically by a twelve-year old.

When Jan found out, he was going to hear about this for _years_.

"Min, stop trying to pick up Erril, he's too old for you," Stele said, as the rest of the crew came back into the shop. "We've got our prices now. Let's go-before any more of our pilot's friends come calling."

* * *

The morning after he had made the transmission, Jan awoke from troubled dreams. He got up and got dressed, checking out the window for anything that was amiss. There was nothing out of the ordinary; the base was as usual, alive with personnel. At one edge of the compound, a Stormtrooper shot at something small and dark that escaped into the underbrush.

Nothing looked out of place. But something felt wrong.

He went as usual to see Maldict, out of duty rather than desire, and nearly ran into him coming out of his office. The commander smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come with me, Lieutenant. There's something I want to discuss with you."

Jan tried to return the look, but the smile felt fabricated and uneasy. It was the way Maldict's hand had settled on his shoulder; it felt in a position to grip him suddenly. "Yes, sir. Where are we going?"

"Outside. There's a place of interest a little ways into the jungle, by the plateau."

"Oh? Just let me get my blaster, and-"

"Leave it. I've got mine-and we won't be long."

Wordlessly the lieutenant walked with the older man outside, and they started across the encampment. Jan's heart had begun to pound; whatever Maldict had in mind, it probably wasn't good. There was a small chance that it was innocent and that there _was _something of interest, but it was too miniscule to count. Nonetheless, he hoped that was the case.

The Stormtroopers on patrol glanced at them as they passed, but otherwise paid them no mind.

He ran a hand through his hair. _I've got a bad feeling about this._

"What's...this thing...of interest?" Jan asked nervously, once they were on the jungle path.

"Place, not thing," Maldict corrected him. "You'll see. Relax, Lieutenant-nothing to be afraid of."

_Except YOU! _Jan thought, glancing over his shoulder. The base disappeared in the foliage.

Maldict made no aggressive moves, however, and they walked along peacefully. The path began to lead upwards, and the two officers climbed up onto the plateau. The commander pointed. "There."

The place he had pointed to was at the side of the path, which continued up to the communications station much farther away. It was a sort of grassy platform maybe ten metres across. It overlooked a wide expanse of jungle, and in the distance Jan could see mountains. When he faced the ravine on the far side of the plateau, the base was on the right. It was over an hour's walk away.

A thought rose unbidden to mind. _Too far for a scream to travel._

He pushed that thought away and looked back to the cliff. There was an old and thick tree on the left, near enough that one of the thick roots almost formed a low wall on the lip of the ravine.

"Ah...the scouts haven't finished their assessment of the mountain range yet," he said, mostly to fill the silence. "Though they suspect trace amounts of cortosis in the higher peaks..."

The lieutenant stepped onto the plateau, stopping near the tree. "Well, I guess this is a place of interest!" he added, with mock cheerfulness. "The view is nice. But is it what-"

"Talked to your brother recently?"

Jan froze.

"Come now, I know you've been talking to him behind my back," said Maldict. Jan slowly turned. The commander was approaching him. "And to his wing mates, too." He stopped before him. "How much have you heard?" he asked flatly.

"Ah, n-nothing, I never even-"

Maldict slapped him hard across the face. "_How much have you heard!_" he demanded.

"_I heard he was framed!_" Jan spat, wiping the blood from his lip. "He'd never betray the Empire!"

"And who was he framed by?"

Jan glared at him.

Maldict laughed. "Ahah! I see. You think it was me."

"I _know _it was you. You and-someone else!"

The older man took a step forward, and the lieutenant jumped back. "_Who_?"

For a moment Jan didn't answer, and Maldict raised his hand threateningly. "Thule!" the young officer snapped. "You and Thule! You sold my brother out and pinned the loss of Telan IV on him!" The commander's eyes narrowed. "And you're going to get caught," Jan continued, more angry than frightened now. "My brother's a pilot, he doesn't have access to that kind of information."

"Where were you hiding? You must have heard the transmission. _So where were you hiding?_"

"Under the grate-"

"You sneaky little-"

"Why Erril, Commander?" Maldict was very close to him. Jan waved a hand. "You will tell me why you chose Erril."

Maldict's hand closed around his wrist. "What, you think you're a Jedi or something?" he demanded, squeezing Jan's wrist so hard that the bones ground together. The lieutenant winced. "Sure. I'll tell you why. He's got Admiral Makar's ear and favour, the timing of his disappearance was perfect, he's an insubordinate little hotshot, and what's more, Thule can't stand him. So _he _chose him."

"And now he's hired bounty hunters to kill him."

"You _have _been going behind my back, haven't you." Maldict looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Just as I thought. You know too much about this." He let go of the young man, and Jan took a few steps backward, rubbing his wrist.

"So I guess that's it, then," he said bitterly. "You're just going to kill me."

"Hmm..." Maldict drew his sidearm, weighing it thoughtfully. Then he put it back in its holster, considering his aide. "Why don't we make a deal, instead."

"Blackmail." Jan's voice was flat. "You're going to blackmail me into keeping my mouth shut. Only, I don't have much money." He smiled sardonically. "_Sorry._"

"Money? No. That's not what I want." Maldict returned the thin smile with one of his own. "There's more to bargain with than money."

"Then what _do _you want?"

The older man laughed, in an unkind way. "_You_," he said. "I want _you._"

Jan had no reply to that, and just gave him a look of open-mouthed dismay.

Then he took a flying step backwards when Maldict came closer, lifting a gloved hand. His back hit the tree. The commander smiled.

"Yes. There are other ways we could compromise," he purred, coming closer still, and Jan could almost see his dark thoughts. "You're very pretty, Lieutenant. If you did me a few..._favours_...I might be willing to go easy on you."

"You're joking," Jan said in a small voice, though he knew that Maldict wasn't. "You're joking, you can't be serious."

"I am serious, Jan." The lieutenant winced. "Mm. Pardon me-perhaps I should have said Lieutenant Kaven?"

Maldict paused at that, and then shrugged, stroking his aide's cheek with his thumb. "Well, with how close we're going to be in a few minutes, I suppose it doesn't matter." He leaned in, tilting his head.

Before Maldict could kiss him Jan planted both hands on his chest and shoved him away with surprising force. The commander took a few unsteady steps back, and his heel hit the tree's root-the one that bordered the ravine-and he toppled over backwards with a yell.

He hit the slope a metre down and started to tumble. Jan watched in horror as his commanding officer fell, bumped, and slid down fifteen metres of steep ravine before dropping into the moss below in a pained sprawl. After a long, drawn-out silence, Maldict got to his hands and knees, then climbed slowly to his feet. His left shoulder looked funny-likely dislocated. He had lost his cap sometime in the fall, and with his good hand he reached up and raked his hair back from his face.

Feeling the cuts and bruises and scrapes of his tumble acutely, Maldict looked up to where Jan was standing with both hands to his mouth. Trembling with barely suppressed fury, the officer drew his pistol and fired up at him. The lieutenant ducked briefly behind the ledge, and the blaster shot hit the root. Then Jan's pale face peeked over the root again. This time Maldict merely shot him a smouldering glare.

"C-Commander...I'm sorry..."

"Not as sorry as you're going to be when we get back to the base." He touched his shoulder, and hissed. "Ah-! Goddamn it, Kaven!"

"I, I didn't mean to."

Maldict didn't answer, and instead stepped up to a tree. He pressed his bad shoulder to it, lightly, and then took a deep breath.

There was a horrid sound underneath his grunt of pain, and his shoulder popped back into place. Jan winced, touching his own shoulder. The worst injury he had ever received had been a fairly innocuous blaster burn on the forearm.

"Hahhh..." Maldict tucked his arm into his tunic, then examined the slope. It was too steep to climb in his current state.

"I...I, um..."

The commander looked up. "_What, _Lieutenant?" he growled.

Jan looked miserable. "I could get a stretcher..."

"I can carry _myself_, thank you. Now get back to the base."

"...Yes, sir..."

The young lieutenant watched Maldict disappear behind the trees with rising panic. The man was heading back to the base, and once Jan got back, he would _really _be in trouble. A snap of Maldict's fingers and the Stormtroopers would shoot him, even the ones that generally liked him. That was the best option. Or he could be jailed. Or killed some other way. Or...he didn't want to go there.

_What am I going to do? _he thought, floundering. _What am I going to do! I'm dead, I'm really dead now!_

He could get back to the base after Maldict, and face whatever the man had planned for him; but maybe he could get back _before _his commander, take a shuttle off-planet and go far, far away-

-and then what? What would he do then? Be a fugitive like his older brother? Seek out the same 'specialized' training? The Empire would catch him eventually; he didn't have his brother's luck.

Shivering despite the jungle heat, Jan turned and started down the path toward the base.

* * *

Maldict trudged through the jungle, cursing to himself under his breath every now and then. His left ankle throbbed a little every time he took a step, courtesy of the tumble down the slope, and his shoulder was going to hurt for days.

Jan was certainly going to be sorry when he returned to the encampment; the commander hadn't decided what his aide's fate was going to be, but one certain thing was that the lieutenant could first cool his heels in a jail cell while Maldict first paid a visit to the infirmary, and then made a transmission to Thule. He would report the young man dead to get the captain off his back, then-

A high-pitched sound drifted closer, and almost without looking Maldict drew, raised, and fired his blaster. Two burnt Streeg wings drifted to the jungle floor.

Keeping the weapon in hand, he parted the fronds before him and stepped through. The base wasn't far.

* * *

Jan entered the encampment at a run, slowed to a stop, and put his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He had run more or less all the way back to try to burn off some of his nervous energy, but it hadn't worked.

A nearby Stormtrooper lowered his weapon, seeing that the newcomer was just one of the officers, and then approached him.

"The commander took a fall down a ravine near the plateau," the lieutenant said, before the trooper could inquire as to the older man's whereabouts. The soldier was puzzled to see that Jan's face was white. "He'll be-back shortly."

"Er, yes, sir. How did this happen?"

The officer's heart was still beating fast. "He caught his foot on a tree root."

The Stormtrooper was silent, merely regarding the officer. Jan couldn't see his expression, but he could well imagine it. "He told me to go back to the base ahead of him." He bit his lip. "I'm going back to my quarters. When Commander Maldict returns, tell him I'm-no. Just come get me."

"Yes, sir."

Jan turned on his heel and walked back to the base proper, then went to his room and sat down on the bed. His hands were shaking.

All the things the commander had said were reverberating through his mind, and although the very thought repelled him, a very small part of him was beginning to wonder if he should not have just accepted Maldict's attentions. He knew better than that, though; being the man's toy would only make things worse. _Much _worse.

To that end, he only hoped that he would no longer be of interest to Maldict when the man returned. But if he still looked good to him...then...

Jan's gaze drifted out the window to where an imperial shuttle was docked. He stared at it for a long time. Then he lay down with some effort, forcing himself to shut his eyes and tried to put the ship out of his mind.

What would Erril do, if he were in the same situation?

He didn't know. A part of him suspected that Erril would have been flying off in the shuttle by now, leaving Tel Sharis behind while he investigated his brother's case.

The ship...

Jan's eyes opened and he turned his head a little. He stared at the wall, aware that beyond it there was an imperial shuttle that could get him off-planet.

_Don't think about it._

He shut his eyes again.

* * *

Maldict came to an abrupt halt and cursed when he saw what was beyond the bushes. He had expected to catch a glimpse of the base, but instead it was _that _tree, _that _rock, and _those _bushes.

He had been here before.

The officer swore. "I'm going in circles."

It should have been a straight line from the bottom of the ravine to the encampment, an easy trip; instead there were detours around quicksand pits, too-thick clumps of vines, fallen trees, and numerous other things. He must have gotten turned around at some point.

A chittering somewhere above him made him look up. A Kishi was sitting on a tree branch just out of reach, staring at him. Without taking its eyes off him the animal chattered again, its tail lashing to and fro.

"Laughing?" said Maldict. "Yes, it's very...amusing."

He reached for his blaster, and the rodent scampered off. "Bloody things," the man muttered. "At least they've learned to bugger off by now."

There was a squeak somewhere behind him, and he turned.

There were a _lot _of Kishis there, maybe twenty, headed by one that was considerably larger than the others. They were all watching him.

Maldict drew his sidearm. When he raised it and fired the Kishis scattered, though he managed to hit three of them. The surviving animals ran into the underbrush, but the officer was sure that they were watching him from there.

With a snort he turned away and continued on. If they were thinking that he was an easy mark, they were sadly mistaken. So he was favouring his left ankle a little; that didn't count for much. He was forty-one years old, in good physical shape, and armed. They, on the other hand, were three-eyed guinea pigs. More or less.

He hadn't gone forty metres before there was a loud chatter behind him. It was lower-pitched than the others; probably the big one. He looked over his shoulder. He counted.

Twenty-five Kishis. They were all sitting still, watching him carefully.

Without turning, he raised the blaster. They retreated about ten metres and stopped, huddling together.

Maldict sighed. "I feel like the blasted pied piper," he muttered as he started away again, with the little rodents cautiously trailing behind him.

* * *

A couple of hours later, they were still following him. There were forty now. More recruits were joining their merry little band as they went along.

Angry now, the officer whipped around and shot one of them. "Piss _off _already!" he shouted. The wretched things retreated to behind a fallen tree, but peeked around and over it at him. Maldict turned and splashed across a shallow stream, the water coming up to mid-shin at its deepest. Further down, some of the Kishis were swimming across, shaking themselves like little dogs as they trotted into the grass.

Fine. Let them follow him back to the base. The Stormtroopers could always use more target practice.

And sooner or later, he knew, Lieutenant Kaven would have to be punished...for going against his commander's orders and aiding his traitorous brother, of course. And then Thule would soon discover that treason had its price. His treacherous associate would never let it rest until Jan was safely out of the way, but Maldict had decided that, provided his aide cooperated, he could go on living for quite some time. If he wouldn't cooperate, well, he wouldn't have much of a choice. Then it would be the jail cell for him. At least there he would be safe from Thule's ire and out of Maldict's hair until all was said and done. That was probably best.

Maldict glanced over his shoulder. There were forty-five now. The way they were gathering up was slightly worrying, but he wasn't out of shots yet and he didn't often miss.

He picked up the pace a little and continued through the jungle. The ground beneath his feet was getting increasingly treacherous, and it was becoming difficult to tell elevations in the thick vegetation. Twice he almost stumbled. The Kishis followed him always, navigating under the bushes and across tree branches with no trouble. They were like a grey wave by now, there were fifty of them at least. Maldict knew that they had done the same thing to the scout troopers on occasion, but it had never culminated in any incidents.

His boot came down on a patch of ground that looked stable, but crumbled underneath his weight. Before he could catch himself the commander began to slide, and when a vine caught him across the shins he pitched forward and hit the incline face-first. For the second time that day he tumbled down into a ravine, the world becoming a spinning kaleidoscope of ground and canopy. He hit his sore shoulder twice before finally skidding to a stop in the pebbly shore of a shallow stream.

Maldict opened his eyes and looked around for his blaster, which had fallen out of his hand sometime during the fall. It was lying at the side of a small pool a few metres from where he had fallen. With his good hand he began to push himself up, and then he saw the Kishis.

They were coming from every direction, and within a flash they were on him, biting with surprisingly sharp little fangs. The officer struggled to his feet, fighting the Kishis all the while, and they clung to them for a few seconds before falling.

He ripped one from his cheek and threw it away, then smacked another off of his shoulder. Then he went for his blaster, not caring that six of them were sitting near it. Slapping them aside, he snatched the weapon and straightened. As the rodents closed in, he began to fire.

* * *

It was later in the day, approaching the early afternoon. The door to Jan's quarters slid open and a figure walked in, approaching the still form of the officer. The lieutenant lay asleep on his bed, his face tired from the worry of the day. There was a quiet beep as the door locked.

Jan's eyes flew open at the first touch of the visitor's hand, and when it tightened around his throat he looked up, startled, into the face of Maldict.

"Miss me?" the commander whispered. His aide's lips moved silently, but he didn't make a sound. There were thin pink stripes on Maldict's skin, where branches and vines had whipped him, and a bruise was beginning to show near his hairline. "Now, you're going to lie still and be very quiet..."

He leaned down.

Jan came awake with a cry at a loud knocking, and for a second he just looked around the room, flustered and disoriented. There was no Maldict there, no gloved hand on his neck. He relaxed.

The knock came again. "Is everything all right in there, sir?" A Stormtrooper's voice.

The lieutenant rose from his bed and went to the door, straightening his uniform. "Yes, I'm fine," he said, and opened the door. "What is it, trooper?"

"Commander Maldict has not returned, sir."

Jan's dark eyebrows rose. "I see. It's been hours. Organize a search party at once."

"Yes, sir. Where was it that he was last seen?" Jan told him. "We'll have the scouts check that area immediately, sir."

After the Stormtrooper had left, the officer stood with his back to the door for a long while, touching his forehead pensively. _Something's changed, _he thought.

* * *

It was hours before the scouts returned, almost sunset. Jan had spent the meantime pacing, and had he been the type to bite his nails, they would have been nibbled down to the quick by the time the troopers returned.

They reported to him directly. "We've found no trace of Commander Maldict, sir," said the one that had stepped forward. "That is, not directly. We found his pistol." Another trooper passed him the weapon, and he handed it to Jan. There were traces of dried blood on it. "It's completely empty. We also found a few traces of fabric in the same spot, and his cap was in the ravine you had mentioned, three kilometres from here."

"How far from there was the pistol?" the officer asked, looking down at the blaster in his hand and knowing that Maldict would not be returning to the encampment.

"Five point eight kilometres, sir. It's very thick jungle out that way-the commander must have gotten lost. We're certain that he's dead, sir."

"Dead..."

"Bioscans haven't shown anything except for the local wildlife, and blood tests reveal that that _is _Commander Maldict's blood. We've searched a thirty-kilometre radius, sir-he's nowhere to be found."

"Search again," said Jan. "I want that man found." Except he didn't, really, and now his left hand had begun to rise of its own accord, toward his mouth.

"But-"

"That is an _order, _trooper!" he snapped. The man saluted and left. Now Jan really did bite his thumbnail as he shut the door again, and began to pace.

_Maldict's dead, _he thought, blown over by the revelation, and tried to ignore the little nibbling underthought that said, _Now only Thule remains._

* * *

The search continued through the night, and when Maldict-or rather, Maldict's _body_-was not found, the higher-ranking officers got together for a conference, spoke briefly to Admiral Dyer, and appointed a replacement commander.

The man's name was Dias. He was in his early forties, a major, and a competent leader, all traits which he shared with the late commander, but that was where the resemblance ended. He had kept Jan as his aide, but he didn't give the lieutenant the creeps the way Maldict had. There was no lust there, a thing for which the young officer was thoroughly grateful.

Now Jan stood by Dias' side, listening quietly as he spoke to another base officer. Eventually Thule would find out that Maldict was dead, he knew, and when that day came he would have to watch himself. He wasn't sure whether Maldict had informed the ship captain of Jan's transmission to Roon Sarda, but he hoped that he hadn't. Roon was Erril's wing mate-and he suspected that they were a special kind of mates as well-his brother would have a fit if something happened to her as well.

The young officer made a note in the datapad he held, wondering all the while what his brother was up to.


	7. Chapter 6: The Jedi Master of Feladorn

**Chapter 6:**

**The Jedi Master of Feladorn**

_Kathol Sector, on the borders of Wild Space. Outer Rim._

"The Navi's badly out of date," said Rico to Captain Argent, as they began to plot their course. "It's been more than a month since anyone went to Feladorn. That's the newest coordinates we've got."

"Stop and go as usual, then," said the pirate captain. "At least a trip there's always worth it." They had more cargo to sell since the trip to Falar, having come across a New Republic merchant's vessel. Argent looked over his shoulder to where Kaven was making some repairs to an astromech droid they had picked up from the merchant ship. "I wonder if he's considered the fact that he'll be stranded out there. No ship, no credits-and Jedi _never _have any money."

"He'll probably make it up as he goes along," Rico replied, his brow knotting as he calculated vectors and gravity wells. "Or at least con a ship off somebody." He tossed a glance Kaven's way as well. The pilot was tapping his foot and glaring at the droid as if that would solve its problem. "He's got, whaddyacallit, charisma. Like mad, too-I think even _you _kind of like him, Cap'n."

Argent grunted. "I don't mind him all that much. That doesn't mean he isn't a bugger to deal with. _Min's _the one that's taken a shine to him."

They both looked. In fact the Twi'lek in question was edging toward Kaven, who was too preoccupied with the astromech to notice the girl sneaking up on him.

The pilot leaned over to work on the droid's motivator, and abruptly felt a hand connect with his bottom. He straightened immediately, and turned sharply to face Min. "Hey!"

She stopped and looked up at him, eyes full of false innocence. "What?"

"You can't just slap my bum whenever you feel like it, _that's _what!"

"Oh," said Min. "I see. That's a privilege reserved for the captain only, huh? Lucky."

Kaven flushed. "It is _not!_"

"Once you're finished working yourself into a snit," Rico called to the pilot, before he and Min could get into their familiar routine, "you should get ready to leave. We're starting for Feladorn."

Preteen harassment forgotten immediately, the imperial officer turned to the pirate. "How long?"

Rico looked down at the charts. "All in all, we'll be there in thirty-two hours."

Min's lips drooped. "Then you're leaving," she said to Kaven, her usual exuberance flagging for once.

"Min," he said gently, "You knew I'd only be here a month. I'm just not a pirate."

"You could be."

"I'm going to be a Jedi...sort of."

The Twi'lek still looked sad, but then a look of sullen determination came over her face, and she turned away. "Well, I hope you enjoy being a Jedi, then!" She stamped away, to where her duties lay in the cargo hold.

Kaven looked at Argent with befuddlement, and the pirate captain shrugged. "Erm. What sort of place is Feladorn?" he asked, coming over to them.

"Rocky. It's got a few mountain ranges, but nothing too big. The Feladornians build on and around the roots of gigantic old trees. They're sun-worshippers, is what they are," Rico said, and then snickered. "They speak Basic, but you'll have to get used to the accent."

"Okay. Um. Any major spaceports?"

"Nope, but there's a town on the Dorgo Plains that we'll drop you at. Your Jedi probably lives somewhere around there."

"How do they feel about Jedi?" Kaven asked, wondering if he'd start any bar fights by asking around.

"They don't feel one way or another," Argent told him. "They've never had anything to do with the Republic, though a lot of scrapped droids from the CIS found their way there after the Clone Wars ended. They'll probably just think the Jedi's some sort of crazy sorcerer."

"That's nice to know." For once, the pilot wasn't merely being sarcastic. Crazed sorcerer or not, it would be nice to be able to ask about the Jedi and not bring a mob down on his head.

"So what are you doing, getting training from a Jedi when you're from the Empire?" Rico asked, after Argent had left them. He began to enter the hyperspace coordinates. "The Empire's got no Jedi."

Kaven sat down. "I think it's time for a few imperial Jedi. The Republic's had its fun."

"How do you know he-or _she_-will agree to train you?"

The thought had been bothering the pilot since leaving Nar Shaddaa. "I _don't _know. But I hope."

The stars became streaks. After a while the pirate said thoughtfully, "As far as you're concerned, it's time for the Empire to rule the galaxy again?"

"Yes. The only reason the New Republic even exists is because of a few-_ridiculous _bits of luck on the Rebels' part, and that damned Rogue Squadron." The pilot folded his arms. "I wasn't born yet when the Old Republic fell, but I will see this one torn apart."

The heat behind his words rather surprised Rico, who was used to seeing varying degrees of professional distance from the imperial officer. There was always resentment on Kaven's part when he spoke of the Republic, but now the pirate was reminded that actual hatred bubbled below the pilot's generally cool exterior. "What made you hate the Republic so much?"

Kaven's mouth was a flat line. "My older brother served on the Death Star."

"Ah."

"If that's not reason enough, then you need only think of the other eight hundred thousand personnel stationed there."

"That's a reason," Rico said. In fact the pirate preferred the Republic to the Empire, but he sure wasn't going to mention that _now, _and he also refrained from mentioning Alderaan. Kaven might have been nice for an imperial, but his darker edges showed where the rebels were concerned.

The pilot said no more about it, though, and just leaned back in his chair. "Anyway, I just hope that the Jedi will accept me for training."

"What will you do if he doesn't?"

Kaven was silent for a while. "I don't know," he admitted, finally.

* * *

Feladorn was a small golden planet wreathed in clouds, orbiting a young sun. The pirates' ship entered the atmosphere, obtained permission to land, and started for what Kaven assumed were the Dorgo Plains.

He got his first look at a Feladornian town, and blinked. There was an enormous tree in the distance, but its roots stretched out for kilometres around; the town was built on these, which crawled up a cliff into a high plateau and formed a sort of weird fortress at the base of a small mountain range. The roots were more like vines, albeit ones that were more than twenty metres in diameter. From their places atop those enormous roots, the Feladornian buildings were directly in the sun. As they docked, Kaven caught a glimpse of a large temple before a crack in the mountains, as if it were the gateway to the valley behind it.

"The town's called Cael Dorath," Argent said. "It's only nine thousand or so. You'll find your Jedi easily if he's here."

The ship touched down. Kaven straightened. Here it was, Feladorn-where he would become a Jedi.

Hopefully.

Bidding farewell to all the pirates except for one, the officer disembarked. He halted at the bottom of the gangplank, seeing Min standing with her arms crossed outside. They faced each other.

"I guess," she said finally, "you're going now."

Kaven nodded. "Yes...it's time for me to go."

The Twi'lek put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "You could have been a pirate."

Kaven went to her and got down on one knee, putting his hands on the girl's shoulders. "Min, I'd wade into eel-infested waters for you," he told her, "but you know I'm not a pirate. I'm not even a proper fugitive."

"Cahn't pronounce yoh ahhs," she murmured, softening a little.

"Right. So I have to do what I can, and I have...a lot to do."

Min considered this. "Yeah, I know," she admitted. "But I've got something to do, too. So hold still, Erril."

Her intention was clear in his mind, but whether it was due to the Force or due to just knowing what the girl was like, he didn't know. In any case, when she shot forward, threw her arms around his neck, and gave him a huge kiss on the lips, he wasn't entirely surprised. It was even accompanied by a _mmmwah!_ sound.

"There," she said, after she'd finished. "Not many imp officers can say they got a kiss from a pirate princess, but now you can. Carry it with you through your Jedi training, okay?"

Kaven couldn't help but smile. "I will, Min."

She went back to where Captain Argent was standing with one elbow leaned against the ship, and turned back to the pilot. She was like the captain's little sister, he thought, adopted from the time they'd taken her aboard.

"It may be the motto of the Rebellion," said Argent, "but it was the motto of the Jedi first, so you'll have to get used to it. May the Force be with you, Erril."

"And with you, Captain," he replied, using the stock phrase for the first time and feeling slightly odd about it. They got into the ship, with Min adding a final wave, and the gangplank raised. His hair blew around as they lifted off, and when they'd gone he merely stood there for a while, a lone figure on the dusty plains, before shouldering his bag and starting for the town.

* * *

"Ye'd be wantin' a Jedi?" asked the shopkeeper he had asked, with some doubt. "Ye know, I dinnae think I've ever seen one of those." Before the pilot's shoulders could begin to sag the Feladornian added, "I'd have t'order it in, if ye'd be willing to wait about three weeks."

"Oh, a Jedi's not a thing, it's a person. I'm looking for a Jedi Knight," said Kaven, looking down at the alien. The Feladornians were humanoid, short, and stumpy, possessed of a vocal burr the likes of which he had never heard before. Get used to the accent, indeed. "Would you know if one lives around here?"

There was a long silence.

"A crazy sorcerer," the pilot added.

The shopkeeper's eyes lit. "Ach, ye mean the blue man! The one what moves objects around usin' his _mind_! I know the one ye mean!" Kaven smiled broadly, and the Feladornian crossed his arms. "Or, I probably do. Which one are ye talkin' about, lad? Thon blue man-or the _other _blue man?"

"Oh no, there's two?"

"Aye."

"I mean...the one that uses the Force."

"As far as I see, the blue men both use a force."

"Okay. Uh. Which one's nicer?"

"Thon blue man."

Kaven was starting to see how the alien's mind worked. "And not the _other _blue man?"

"Ye'd be wantin' to avoid the _other _blue man, lad. He'd hit ye with a lightning bolt, like as not, especially if you're going to be consortin' with yer Jedi friend, same species ye are or not."

_Another Dark Jedi, _Kaven thought. _Just what I need. _"Humans...don't come in blue," he said, not really wanting to get in any further with this, but unable to help it.

"Ach, word has it he paints himself blue with woad. But if ye're lucky, ye won't meet him and find out firsthand."

_I don't want to know, _the pilot decided. "Where does the-thon blue man live?"

"There's a rocky area east of here. If ye came in a ship, ye probably saw it when ye landed. It's just south of a huge canyon." Kaven nodded. "Yer Jedi friend lives in a grotto out there. He probably likes the privacy to do his magic where he en't being interrupted."

"Is there a place where I can get a speeder bike?"

"Aye. My friend owns a place where ye can get one. It's down the street."

"Thanks."

"Nae problem. Just don't get yerself killed ridin' the blasted thing."

* * *

_What species is this Jedi? _Kaven wondered an hour later, as he sped over the plains. He had pictured a thousand forms and faces for the Jedi between here and Nar Shaddaa, but an old human with a beard and longish hair had begun to cement itself. _He's blue. What aliens do I know that come in blue?_

Twi'leks. Ortolans. Chagrians. Nelvaanians. Caerulians. Toydarians.

The pinnacles of rock grew closer and closer, and finally the pilot slowed to a halt. He could feel someone's presence as he walked toward the grotto's entrance. _This is it, _he thought, and knocked at the door.

The presence grew closer, and the door opened. A long silence followed.

The man looking at him was tall and blue-skinned, with jet-black hair and red glowing eyes. He was much younger than Kaven had expected, in his mid-thirties, maybe, with aristocratic, handsomely-chiselled features. His hair was combed straight back, and the pilot was reminded of a vampire he had seen in some old holodrama. If the Jedi's clothing hadn't been white, the resemblance would have been striking.

He had seen Chiss before, Grand Admiral Thrawn among them, but they weren't common sights across the galaxy.

Kaven found his voice. "You're the Jedi the Feladornians...?"

The Chiss nodded. "Yes. I am Mikt'alosrysaal'medi. But you may call me by my Core name, Talos. Who are you?"

"My name's Erril Kaven. I used to be a pilot..."

..._But then I found out I was Force-sensitive, and I was hoping you'd teach me Jedi ways. _That was what he wanted to say, but it was too blunt. He was unsure of what to say, how to put it. For once, Kaven was tongue-tied.

Talos' eyes closed. "The Force is with you," he said reflectively.

"Yes...But I don't really know how to use it..."

"I see. You came looking for a master?"

"Yes..."

The Jedi's eyes snapped open, and Kaven found himself the target of that burning red gaze. "You carry the dark side," he said, bluntly. The pilot's eyes opened wide, and the Chiss added, "But I can see that you haven't embraced it."

"I met a Dark Jedi. I don't want to be one," Kaven said, with conviction. "I don't know anything about the Force. I didn't even know that I could use it until a couple of months ago. All I know is that the dark side is not where I want to be."

"And you expect to be my padawan?"

"Does that mean apprentice? If it does, I don't _expect _to be, but I was really hoping for it, yes."

Talos seemed to consider it. After a while he asked, "What drove you to seek out a Jedi, when there are other Force-users to teach you? You don't seem like a New Republican."

_Do I have it tattooed on my forehead? _the pilot wondered. "I don't really know any other Force-using orders except for the Jedi," he admitted. "I'm not from the New Republic, I'm...a TIE pilot. I was looking for a nonpartisan Jedi to teach me. I know the Empire works with Dark Jedi sometimes, but I don't want to learn from them, and I don't want to defect to the Republic."

The Chiss gave him another considering look. "The Empire doesn't know that you're Force-sensitive, does it?"

"No. It's a long story."

One corner of Talos' mouth lifted a little, for just a moment. "You're on the run, aren't you."

"A _very _long story."

The Jedi straightened. "I have time to hear it. Come inside." He turned and went back inside, and the pilot followed.

* * *

"Hmm. Yes, I see," said Talos, after his visitor had finished telling his story. "The Empire is not aware of Feladorn's existence. Mira the Hutt selected a good planet for you."

"Right, and I hope it stays that way. Madeen's a good tracker, even if she can't keep hold of me for very long. The lieutenant's probably got that covered for her," the pilot replied. "I hope my brother's doing all right, but I know he can take care of himself just fine."

The two men were sitting across from each other, both cross-legged and on cushioned daises. The grotto was roomy and comfortable, if generally bare. Talos was apparently not one for luxuriance. Kaven had to wonder if that were true of all Jedi; they were monks, after all, weren't they? Of a sort?

"What does it mean to carry the dark side?" Kaven asked, frowning. Talos' earlier declaration had been nibbling at him. "I'm not evil-I mean, the Republic probably thinks I am, since I'm with the Empire, but I've never committed any of the atrocities you see in rebel propaganda."

"When a Jedi, or anyone capable of using the Force, strikes out in anger, they become closer to the dark side," Talos told him. "The dark side of the Force is what it sounds like; fear, aggression, jealousy, anger...hatred. Some embrace it and welcome its power, like Hrakis. Others turn away. Some devote their lives to the very opposite, like the Jedi Order."

Kaven thought about it. "Is the dark side more powerful?"

The Jedi shook his head. "No. It is only a quick path to power. One that has gone to the dark side will become very strong, but the dark side takes more than it gives, and eventually it will drain them."

"Why not just draw on it a little, and stay away?"

Talos' lips thinned. "It is not that easy, Erril, and it is _not _a toy. It's...addictive. Many Jedi had thought the same as you over the years, and each of them fell." Kaven's frown deepened a little. "In your service to the Empire, you've surely called upon it. But only once?"

The pilot bit his lip. "When I was angry, my reflexes sharpened. I became faster-more accurate. So I used it. In a hard battle, I would think about the Battle of Yavin." The realization of years settled on his shoulders, and his shoulders sagged. "I called on it _on purpose._"

"You're beginning to understand. The Battle of Yavin?"

"When the Death Star was destroyed. I had family on it..."

"This is the source of your anger."

"Yes." Kaven had been a different person back then, and it had changed him. "When I was using anger as fuel in all those dogfights, in all that training, I thought it was all right to do it. I didn't know that what I was doing could make me into someone like Hrakis in time." He sighed. "My wing mates always said that I got scary when I did that. At Salamand..."

The heartbeat of silence that followed was full.

"Never mind that," he said to himself, and addressed Talos again. "Can you come back from the dark side, once you've gone over?"

To his relief, the Chiss nodded. "It's long and difficult, but it is entirely possible. Are you willing to turn your back on it completely?"

"Yes. Yes. No matter what it takes."

He waited as the Jedi thought about it. Talos folded his hands and asked, to Kaven's surprise, for his life story.

"But...why?" he asked, bemused. Not many were interested in hearing about his life.

For the second time one corner of Talos' mouth lifted a little. "If I'm going to take you as my padawan, I ought to know about you." Kaven brightened, and the Chiss held up a hand. "That does not mean that I've decided. I will consider this in the Chiss fashion."

That meant that he was going to think about it deeply. It might take days. The pilot nodded, and decided that he wanted to tell the Jedi about himself.

* * *

That night Kaven stayed in Talos' grotto. The Jedi had directed him towards a little alcove higher up on the wall opposite the doorway, about the size of an attic room and obviously for guests.

The pilot climbed off the ladder and looked down. The floor was about five metres down, and in the dark he could see the Chiss' eyes glowing as he moved about. Kaven pulled the curtain shut and undressed, then climbed into bed.

* * *

The next morning, he and Talos spoke of the Force. Though he asked a question here and there, Kaven mostly listened, fascinated especially by the things that the Jedi could do. It all seemed so magical to him still, and he could hardly believe that he himself was capable of all those things.

Now he and the Jedi were walking through the canyon, still talking. The pilot was stepping from rock to rock across the site of a landslide when Talos suddenly turned to him and asked, "Erril, what is the most valuable life form in this galaxy?"

Kaven stopped with one foot up, rather bowled over by the random question. "You mean, among sentient species and animals?" he asked, and sat down on a large rock. "I never really thought of life forms as having relative values. I would think that each was as valuable as the next, all things considered."

"You don't think the galaxy would be better off without a few creatures?"

The pilot arched an eyebrow at the Chiss. "I can't stand eels and wouldn't mind never seeing one again, but that doesn't mean they're evil incarnate and need to be killed off," he said.

"You don't think there's a hierarchy of species, then?"

"Nah. If you ask around, though, you'd find a lot of beings who'd disagree with me."

Talos smiled a little. "No doubt."

They started on again. "There's a lot of higher-ranking officers that don't like aliens much," Kaven continued after a while, stepping over a gap in the rocks, "so the Empire's got a reputation for being xenophobic. It doesn't make much sense to me. My parents didn't raise me to be a speciesist." He grinned as he jumped a wider gap, and then turned to Talos. "Actually, my dad would probably kick my arse about it. Not literally-he'd just have a lot to say on the matter."

"You'd mentioned that your father was in the navy."

"Yes. He was a ship's captain during the Clone Wars, and then became an admiral two years after Jan was born." Kaven's grin faded. "He resigned not long after the Battle of Yavin. He said the Imperial military didn't hold much appeal for him anymore."

The Jedi Master nodded. "Did you enjoy serving with Captain Argent and his crew?"

The sudden shift in topic made Kaven pause. "Not really."

"Why not?"

"They were pirates, Talos. They attacked, boarded, and looted ships before destroying them. I did like a few of the pirates, but not what they did. As far as space pirates go, I guess Argent was a real gentleman, but that doesn't make him one of the good guys." The pilot hopped down from the rock he stood on, and faced the Chiss with his arms akimbo. "One of my duties as an imperial pilot is to fight piracy."

"The Empire has a tendency to attack, board, and loot ships before destroying them."

"Yes, but that's different-"

"How so?"

"Well, the situation is different. Maybe the same things are done, but in a different spirit." Talos cocked an eyebrow at him, and he threw up his hands. "It's the difference between jumping somebody on the battlefield and doing the same in a dark alley! Besides, it's not like the Republic doesn't do the same thing; it's just practical."

"But it's more forgivable if the Empire does it?"

"Look, I know they say the Empire's not the nicest organization around, but I bloody well grew up in it and I can't just condemn it because it does something I don't like, like piracy or, or working with Dark Jedi." He sighed. "There are no clean governments."

"I do agree with that," said Talos mildly as they walked, "Which is why I am nonpartisan. The Empire has allied itself with the dark side, and the Old Republic had grown too corrupt for its own good. But I am a Jedi; I serve the Force, not governments."

They continued on for some time. Eventually Kaven asked, "Talos, who's the _other _blue man?"

The Jedi halted. "You haven't met up with him, have you?"

"No, but I talked to a few Feladornians. You're _thon _blue man, but apparently there's another blue man that's trouble...?"

Talos' red gaze flickered down the canyon way, as if he were checking for something. "He and I have learned to respect each other's space. He lives near the north side of the canyon, so I would discourage you from trespassing."

"He's a Dark Jedi of some sort?"

"Not by any Force tradition that I know of. He has his own ways of using the Force, however, and he is a militant hermit. As long as you don't bother him, he'll leave you alone."

"Well, I'll stay out of his way, then. Will you tell me about other Force traditions?"

* * *

Kaven's head was spinning by the time they returned to Talos' grotto. The Baran Do Sages, the witches of Dathomir, the _Night-sisters _of Dathomir, shaman of all sorts across the galaxy, the Jedi-how many Force traditions _were _there? There were many more than just the Jedi Knights, and a part of him wondered if he would be better suited to another order. That, however, was something to consider once he knew more about the Jedi themselves. Maybe Talos would tell him more the following day. The Jedi master hadn't hold him much about the various groups.

For that matter, maybe he would get to hear more about the Sith. Talos had mentioned them in passing, but from the way the Chiss' lips had thinned as he had said it, Kaven supposed that they weren't a very nice bunch.

The Jedi paused at the entranceway to the grotto, and turned back to the pilot. "Aside from having learned the mind-trick, what are you able to do?" he asked.

"I can lift some little things. I haven't tried anything more than two kilos-it gives me enough trouble as it is. I doubt I could do anything big at this point."

"Size does not matter," the Chiss told him.

Kaven bit his cheek to keep his comeback down. "It doesn't?"

"If you can lift a kilogram, you can lift ten thousand more." Talos saw the scepticism on his face. "You don't believe me?"

"Let's just say, I'd have an easier time believing it if I saw it."

The Jedi pointed at an enormous boulder resting by the nearby canyon wall. "That rock weighs more than three thousand kilograms. Observe." He spread his hand and, without breaking a sweat, picked it up telekinetically and floated it around in a circle before setting it back down. He regarded the astonishment on the pilot's face for a moment, and then said, "Now, come inside."

Kaven stared at the rock. "Amazing." Then he put his hands on his hips, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Dark-siders just got a bit more frightening, I think." He went to follow Talos, and then looked over his shoulder at the boulder. He pointed his hand at it the way the Chiss had and tried to lift it, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. When absolutely nothing happened, he sighed and followed the older man inside.

"I'd like to hear more about the actual tenets of the Jedi order," he said, seating himself across from Talos. "Just so I know that what I'm getting myself into isn't...weird."

Talos raised a dark eyebrow. "Weird?"

"You know..._weird._ As in, religious weird. Like not eating certain vegetables or showing your hair or wearing consecrated underwear that you can't take off."

The Chiss actually laughed at that, though it was more Kaven's serious expression than his words that amused him. "It won't be weird in any way."

"Well, it's good to hear that," the pilot said with some relief, though he was aware that any weird Jedi tenets were likely to be thought normal by Talos. "All right. Now I've got another question. You said you were going to think about taking me as your 'padawan'. That _is _an apprentice, right?"

"Correct."

"_Just _an apprentice? A student? Nothing special?"

Talos stared at him. "What are you trying to say?" he asked suspiciously, noting the slight emphasis that Kaven put on _special._

Kaven gave him an apologetic smile. "Just being cautious. I am pretty good-looking, after all."

The Jedi looked at him in disbelief. "Are you always this impudent?"

"Only when it can't get me demoted."

Talos put his hands on his knees. For once the Chiss had been caught off-guard. "I can't see how I would come off as...that sort."

"You don't. But I've travelled halfway across the galaxy and might just find myself living with a man that I don't know at all."

"At least you're honest."

"That's true."

The Chiss leaned forward. "How is it that you survived in the Empire?"

Kaven flashed a white smile in response. "By being a really _good _pilot."

* * *

The next day, as Kaven climbed down from his alcove, the Chiss Jedi said, "I've decided." The pilot turned to face him. Talos was standing with one shoulder leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. "I will take you as my padawan."

The human lit up. "I'm glad to hear that!"

"You have _much _to learn, but I think you might have some potential."

"So I'll learn what the Jedi at the Republic's Jedi academy learn?"

There was a slight shrug from the Chiss. "I have nothing to do with the new Jedi order. My own master was a knight of the Old Republic, and I quite prefer their techniques. Particularly when it comes to lightsaber combat." Talos regarded him. "Have you ever used a lightsaber?"

"A little bit. I had one with me for a while after the Bal'demnic campaign. I could block a few blaster shots, but I couldn't fight with it." Now it was Kaven's turn to shrug. "All I could do was swing and hope for the best. What's the difference in fighting between the old Jedi order and the new one?"

"The styles differ. The new Jedi order uses only three forms, while the old had seven. The three are rather clumsy mixtures of the seven, and are referred to simply as-" Talos' lips thinned a little, as if out of distaste, "Fast, medium, and strong."

"That's...original. What about the seven?"

"They are Shii-Cho, Makashi, Soresu, Ataru, Shien, Niman, and Juyo, in that order. They're referred to by number just as commonly. Each has its own strengths and weaknesses. Makashi, for example, is a fencing style that focuses on precision and economy of movement-a very elegant style. It's particularly effective against another lightsaber-wielding opponent, but not so much against blaster fire. With skill and practice, that weakness can be readily overcome." Talos touched the lightsaber at his hip. It had a curved handle.

"Makashi's your style, isn't it."

"Yes."

"So what's best against blasters?"

"Form III, Soresu. In fact, it is an all-round defensive style."

Kaven sat down. "It's going to be hard to choose which to learn," he said.

Talos fixed him with an amused look. "You'll learn all of them. Or at least the basic moves of each."

"Yikes."

"Regretting your desire to study under a Jedi?"

"Not a bit. I've just got a lot to learn." The pilot grinned. "Ready when you are."

The Jedi turned and opened a trunk, reaching inside. Then he turned back to Kaven, and threw something at him. The officer caught it. A lightsaber handle.

"A training sabre. Your training begins now."

* * *

Days passed, and became weeks. The Jedi Master was as strict as any of the officers at the academy on Corulag, and Kaven's lessons were drilled into him every day. Each night he heard more about the Jedi, and learned until he felt his memory would simply give and expel all of its contents. It was even tougher than his pilot training. He went to bed every night exhausted.

Currently the two were up on the cliffs, with the great crevice of the canyon not far from where they were fighting.

"Recite," Talos ordered, knocking away Kaven's training sabre with his own.

The pilot took another swing at him. He had been taught the basic forms of Shii-Cho, and his moves were mechanical; learned, but not mastered.

"There is no emotion, there is peace." Kaven managed to parry a thrust from the Jedi, though he knew very well that Talos was going easy on him. "There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is-serenity."

Their training sabres ground together. Talos' burning red eyes met Kaven's green ones. "There is no death...there is the Force," the pilot finished.

"You recite the code like you fight." To the officer's shock the Chiss suddenly struck out with the Force, sending him flying. Kaven landed on his back with a grunt. "Mechanically."

Kaven lifted his hips, and flipped himself to his feet. He was breathing hard.

Instead of replying, the pilot simply deactivated the weapon. The green blade disappeared. Weighing it in his hand as he walked, he went to Talos. The Chiss had felt his frustration as they fought, but now it was cooling. "The code contradicts itself," the pilot said.

The Jedi returned his own training blade to his side. The last two lines of the code had especially brought doubt to the officer ever since he had learned them. "And you're uncomfortable with that?"

His padawan ran a hand through his hair, further tousling it. "It's too Zen for me. It would make more sense if it were, 'There is emotion, _yet _there is peace' and so on," he replied.

A little smile touched Talos' lips. "That is, in fact, a known variant of the code."

"Why didn't you tell me that one, then?"

"Would you rather just memorize without consideration?"

"I had enough of that in the academy." Kaven glanced out over the rough landscape of Feladorn, attaching his training sabre to his belt. "I would rather learn and decide for myself."

"As you have done..."

Kaven turned back to Talos, planting his fists on his hips. "Am I that bad with a lightsaber?"

The Chiss returned his look. "I believe I said 'mechanical', not 'bad'. In reality, you are doing well."

"You keep whipping me!"

"Then you have motivation to get better."

It was that sort of pragmatism that marked Talos, Kaven decided. Over the last three weeks the Chiss had shown himself to be more practical than severe, merely dry rather than humourless. He was taking the rougher points of the pilot's personality with good grace, gently correcting his more thoughtless comments instead of scolding him outright. Kaven resented a moral lecture, but he hadn't gotten any from the Jedi. He hoped that would last.

"I'll let you practice with the remotes," the Jedi Master told him. "Two of them, this time. It will sharpen your reflexes." The officer reached for his training blade, and the Chiss added, "On the other side of the canyon."

"Huh? But the closest path down is-"

"The quickest way across a canyon is to leap across," Talos said, rather cheerfully, and pointed. "That part is six metres. You'll clear it easily enough."

"If I get a good running start, I guess," said Kaven. He could use the Force to jump a bit higher, a bit farther, but it wasn't anything spectacular. He wasn't sure what the Chiss was capable of, but he was willing to bet that it was a far cry from his own budding abilities.

Talos turned and walked briskly to the canyon's edge, then leapt across. He gestured to Kaven to follow.

The pilot crouched, like a runner waiting for the starting shot of a race, and then broke into a sprint. He pushed off from the ledge and sailed through the air, intent on landing squarely on the other side.

It was a long six metres. His feet came down on the other side, though his heels did not, and his arms windmilled madly for a moment before he got his balance and walked over to the Jedi Master like he'd meant to do it.

He saw a brief smile appear on Talos' face as the alien turned and moved further away from the ledge. Kaven followed, and the Chiss took two remotes from his coat pocket.

As they floated into the air, Kaven activated the training blade and held it before him, eyeing the training droids. In his peripheral vision he saw Talos fold his arms over his chest. He moved into the opening stance of Shii-Cho.

The training began. Both of the remotes moved in, and Kaven watched their erratic movements through narrowed eyes. It was hard to tell when they were going to fire.

The one on the right suddenly bobbed further, and the pilot hesitated. A split second later he felt the sting of a shot from the other one, and as he jumped from that the first one shot him as well. Further away, Talos raised a hand to his mouth thoughtfully.

_Don't try to guess what they'll do, _Kaven thought, moving back into a defensive stance. _Just feel the Force..._

He took a deep breath. It was easier to do that these days, now that he had a guiding hand, and when he felt something go he obeyed the instinct to move, and deflected the shot. That one was followed by another from the droid's partner, which he also repelled.

The lesson continued. As it progressed it began as something like: deflect deflect deflect _kzap ow _swing miss _ow _deflect deflect, and became a series of increasingly more accurate deflections as the pilot became more focused. At last Talos declared the lesson finished, and put away the remotes.

"You must learn to immerse yourself in the Force sooner, Erril," said the Chiss as they started down the path to the canyon bottom. "Blasters won't be as gentle as the remotes."

"It is getting easier," Kaven replied. "I'm not used to, ah, meditation yet. The closest I had to it was being on patrol around the _Imperial Dawn_." There was a few moments' thoughtful silence as they walked, and then the pilot asked, "...Talos? Can I ask you something?"

Talos faced him. "What is it?"

"Jedi are monks of a sort, right?"

"You are correct."

"And I'm training to become a Jedi..."

Talos sighed. "What are you trying to get at, Erril?"

Kaven considered, and then shook his head and just asked it bluntly. "I don't have to remain celibate, do I?" When the Chiss' eyebrows raised, he continued, "I don't want to make myself sound like an addict, but I don't think I could survive three months without."

He saw Talos' lips twist, and added hastily, "I mean, little Jedi have got to come from somewhere, right?"

Talos' stern facade wore thin then as the Chiss raised a hand to hide his smile. "Jedi are not required to abstain," he said, noting the pilot's serious expression. "It is _attachment _that we wish to avoid."

Kaven raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. "So Jedi aren't supposed to love anyone? Isn't that cold?"

"It's not love that's forbidden, it's attachment. It can lead to possessiveness, jealousy, bitterness..." The Chiss gave Kaven a penetrating look. "Things more in common with the dark side than with love."

Kaven shifted uncomfortably. There were people that he was very attached to, and others that he was bitter about losing. "So a Jedi can love, but he has to avoid jealousy and...everything else. That's a tall order," he said at last, mostly to fill the silence.

"So it is," Talos murmured, turning back to the path. "I was watching your technique while you trained with the remotes. You did well, once you immersed yourself in the Force, but you have much to learn about how to handle a lightsaber. You must learn to wield it as an extension of yourself." He looked back to Kaven. "To encourage you to fight unpredictably, I will begin training you with a MagnaGuard."

Kaven's blood ran cold. "Weren't those things advanced droids used by the Trade Federation?"

The Chiss nodded. "Yes. General Grievous' personal bodyguards. They're very capable of standing up to Jedi. A lot of scrapped droids made their way here after the Clone Wars, and you may meet up with a few. I myself use the MagnaGuards for sparring."

"I've been training for three weeks. That thing will make mincemeat out of me."

"I have every confidence that you'll survive."

The pilot ran a hand through his hair. "And I appreciate that, Talos, I really do, but if those things can beat up Jedi, I hardly stand a chance. If I were in my ship, I could turn that thing into dust, but in lightsaber combat? You said yourself that I was about youngling level!"

He put his hands on his hips, and Talos arched an eyebrow at him. "Just relax," the Jedi told him. "This will be a training session, not a death sentence. It's not as though it will be waiting for you back at the grotto."

"Right," said Kaven.

* * *

It was a few days later that Kaven faced the MagnaGuard. It cut an intimidating figure with its electrostaff held before it, its shredded cloak blowing in the dry wind. It was most certainly beyond Kaven's ability to defeat, but the pilot had his pride, and would try to last as long as he could.

The green light of the training sabre hissed out, and Kaven moved into the opening defensive stance he had been taught. The droid advanced, and attacked.

It moved faster than the officer had expected, but he was able to repel most of the blows successfully. The MagnaGuard's staff twirled and thrust, and Kaven gradually retreated, unable to get an attack in edgewise. The droid moved down a little, silently, and brought the electrostaff behind Kaven's ankles, tripping him up. The pilot landed on his back in the dirt, and abruptly rolled to the side as one end of the staff jabbed downwards. Raising a hand, the padawan used the Force to push the droid. The MagnaGuard took two steps back and Kaven hit it again, harder this time. This time he managed to make it stumble, and used the opportunity to jump to his feet.

They came together again, and although the human could defend himself against the thing's onslaught, he could not find any opportunities to counterattack. There were openings, but he wasn't skilled enough to get to them safely yet.

Suddenly an opening came, and Kaven vaulted over the head of the droid, landing behind it. It began to turn, and the officer hit it with the Force as hard as he could muster.

The MagnaGuard's feet lifted, and it sailed three metres before landing on its back. Before it could get up, the pilot wrenched the electrostaff out of its hand, Force-pulled it toward himself, and caught it.

The droid rose, but made no move to attack. Kaven grinned.

"I won," he said. "I won!"

"Well done," said Talos, from where he had been standing watching the fight.

Kaven looked back to the MagnaGuard. "Hey, you," he said, noticing something, "Turn around!"

The droid obeyed. The pilot went to it and moved its cloak aside, revealing a panel that he hadn't noticed before. Raising an eyebrow, he opened it. There was a strip inside, numbered one through ten. It was currently set to one. He read what was written at the top of the column, and sagged. "Challenge Rating," he said. "One out of ten." He shut the panel. "Well, _that _was short-lived."

"As your training progresses, the challenge will go up," Talos told him. "At eight you'll be the match of an ordinary Jedi Knight."

Kaven brightened. Someday he would be that level. "I'm looking forward to Forms II and III," he said. "Especially Makashi. From what I've seen of it and learned of it, I might decide to specialize in it."

The Jedi nodded. "That would be a good choice for you, as it would make use of your agility and...build."

The officer smiled ruefully. He had never been a big man, or a heavily built one. He was slim and dextrous instead, running to wiry now, with the exercise that he was getting in his Jedi training. Talos was built similarly, though the Chiss was a little taller than him. The Jedi Master was not especially strong, but what he lacked in strength he more than made up for through the empowerment of the Force and his skill with the lightsaber.

He would go with Makashi, Kaven decided privately. There was something about its grace and elegance that caught his attention. It was skill above strength; the right shot in the right place did so much more than clumsy hacking ever would, and its economy gave its users staying power. It was like piloting a Defender. It was perfect.

"We will begin with Form II once you've proven that you've learned the moves of Shii-Cho adequately," the alien informed him. "When you feel ready, demonstrate to me, and I will see whether you're ready or not."

Kaven considered, and then nodded. "I will. But I want to spend more time with the MagnaGuard first."

"As you wish."

* * *

After the Jedi had left, Kaven set the MagnaGuard's challenge level to two, and then took up his training sabre again, intent on improving his techniques.

There was a significant difference between one and two. He lost quite badly.

As he trudged back to the grotto, feeling all of the bruises that the droid had given him, Kaven decided that some reflection was in order. Talos had said that intention could be felt in the Force, and that this accounted for some of the Jedi's amazing reflexes. The pilot's reflexes were excellent, but he needed to learn how to read the Force to progress.

He went inside. "The hot springs south of the canyon will help those bruises," said Talos, without turning around, as Kaven entered.

"You knew, huh?"

"It was written all over you. You know where the landspeeder is."

* * *

The hot water did feel good on his bruises, he reflected later on, as he settled back in the pool. He rested his head on a rolled-up towel resting on the edge and closed his eyes.

He wondered if Admiral Makar believed that he was guilty of treason, or if the old officer was searching for the real culprit. Unless Thule was hiding his tracks well, which was unfortunately likely the case, the admiral would have found out by now. The crew of the _Imperial Dawn _was a highly competent one. The admiral had always prided himself on that, and-Kaven privately thought-made an effort to acquire more skilled personnel. Thule, sneaky bastard though he was, had been a good captain up to now.

Upon reflection, Kaven realized that he should have suspected something the moment he had seen Thule in the hangar during the attack on Kuan. Under normal circumstances, the officer would have been in the bridge. How long had this been planned?

But on the other hand, he would have to thank Thule the next time they met, as the man had put him on this road. Thank him, and then-

He frowned a little. To do _that _would be to take a step closer to the dark side. He would hand the captain over to the admiral for punishment. He had strayed too close to the shadows as it was.

_I wonder if normal people go to the dark side, _he thought, sinking down in the hot water. _Or if it's just us Force-sensitives. _They did, he decided, after a moment's thought. There was plenty of evil in the galaxy, too much to limit it just to those who were gifted with the Force.

Talos had said that the Empire had allied itself with the dark side; did that mean that the Empire was truly evil? Rebel propaganda certainly said it was.

No, the pilot thought. Empires were not evil. No workable government was, but the beings running it could be. The Empire was simply a military government. Its agents were people, and they could swing either way.

He considered that, feeling his body ache mildly as he soaked. It wasn't about where one stood, but which way one faced.

If, for example, the _Republic _had been headed by a Sith Lord-

Kaven stopped.

Or if the Empire had been headed by a Sith Lord-

Something clicked, and the pilot's eyes flew open.

* * *

Talos had felt Kaven coming from kilometres away, and as such he was not at all surprised when the human came bursting in. His padawan's hair was still wet, and there was colour in his face from his soak in the hot springs, but the Chiss suspected that that wasn't the sole cause of it.

"Talos! I need to know something," Kaven said. He appeared to be thinking furiously.

"Then ask."

"When the Jedi betrayed the Old Republic. Order 66. The Jedi were killed...and then...an empire was born. _The _Empire." Talos merely waited, folding his hands. "There had been rumours of Sith back then. They were supposed to have been working with the Federation. My parents were both with the Republic navy, they heard the stories. To them, they were just myths about some evil religion. What _about _the rumours? Were they true?"

Talos bowed his head. "I was still on Csilla when Order 66 was issued. My master had survived. There had apparently been a Sith at the Battle of Naboo, but the second was never found."

"And the Sith hate the Jedi. And then the Jedi were all killed, so the second Sith had to have been there, in a good position to make it happen." Kaven's voice was almost shaking now. "Because the Jedi didn't betray the Republic, did they? The Republic betrayed _them_."

The Chiss merely listened, watching his padawan intently. "With the Jedi conveniently out of the way," the officer continued, "Chancellor Palpatine became emperor of the first galactic empire. And, and, Darth Vader served the emperor. I know that name. My brother Lucian was part of the imperial navy. And I know the word _Darth-_it's a Sith title, you told me so yourself. A Sith _Lord's _title. But the top Sith wouldn't serve anybody unless it would give _him _all the power. So, Darth Vader was somebody's apprentice."

Kaven leaned down. "He was _Emperor Palpatine's _apprentice, wasn't he? Palpatine was the Sith Lord."

A wry smile touched Talos' lips, and he nodded once in confirmation. "You are learning to think things through."

"He orchestrated the whole thing." The pilot ran a hand through his wet hair. "That unholy, magnificent bastard. He manipulated two armies, killed the Jedi, gutted the Old Republic from the inside out, and created his Sith empire from the ruin."

"Exactly so."

Kaven plopped down across from him. "I served a Sith Lord," he said, distantly.

"But you do not anymore."

"No. The emperor is dead. The Sith are dead."

Talos could feel his emotions through the Force; Kaven was shaken and a bit disturbed by his revelations, and there was confusion and some worry there as well. The human was often a jumble of emotion quite separate from the snark and cheekiness he displayed on the surface, and it concerned the Chiss as often as it intrigued him. "Meditate, Erril," he commanded his padawan. "Calm yourself. Think of the Force, and of the Living Force-and centre yourself in it."

Kaven's green eyes shut, and he took a deep breath. "There is emotion, yet there is peace," he said. The words came easily. "There is ignorance, yet there is knowledge. There is passion, yet there is serenity. There is no death, there is the Force..."

"Think of all that I've taught you."

"I have much to learn," said the young man.

"As do I. But you must never stop."

"I won't, Master."

Talos paused. Kaven had never called him that before. "Your lessons will continue tomorrow," he told him, "at the usual time." He rose to his feet and left the room, glancing thoughtfully back at his padawan as the door slid shut behind him.

* * *

Several more weeks passed. Kaven's lessons had begun to pick up, and as the pilot became more proficient with the Force itself, he grew more skilled in other ways. The Chiss had begun to teach him the moves of Makashi, and he picked up on them quickly, managing to best the MagnaGuard at level three on several occasions. The officer was quick on his feet, with sharp reflexes, and already Talos could tell that he was going to be a skilled and dangerous opponent once he had mastered the lightsaber. Kaven was learning how to use the Force as well, and although he took to the techniques decently, his way of thinking had not changed overmuch. He remained largely the hotshot pilot he had arrived as, with less regard for rules and philosophy than the average Jedi.

Had this been the Old Republic, Talos thought privately, the Council would certainly have complained.

Currently the Jedi Master and his padawan were racing across the canyon, leaping from pinnacle of rock to pinnacle of rock, with the supernatural speed afforded to them through the use of the Force.

Talos leapt and sailed smoothly toward a rocky tower, his white coattails flapping in the breeze. He landed gracefully, and Kaven landed beside him. Without waiting, the pilot continued on, jumping at another pinnacle of rock above them. He landed safely, and straightened as his master followed.

"How does it feel," the Chiss asked, "to be one with the Force?"

"It's like a special kind of randy," Kaven said, and then laughed when the Jedi Master raised a disapproving eyebrow at him. "I mean the sensitivity," he explained. "The awareness. The-being a part of everything else." He put his hands on his hips and looked out over the Feladornian landscape, his dark hair blowing in the breeze. "Rather sensuous, in the sense of them being sharpened; I feel everything around me. You said that the Force binds the whole galaxy together, and now I _know _it's true."

"I understand."

"What, you thought I was only being naughty again?"

"You do have that tendency."

"And you don't." They leapt down from the spires, and started back across the plains toward the crevice of the canyon. As they walked Kaven asked, "Do you ever use the Force for fun? As in, fun and games, just messing about?"

"That would be irresponsible of me." Talos sighed.

"Well, apparently not, you _are _Mister Serious. And other Jedi, what about them?"

"They would agree that the Force is not a toy."

"So you shouldn't do _anything _fun with the Force?"

"Not anything _you _define as fun, Erril."

Kaven gave him a disapproving look as they walked. "I see. So I'm the terrible padawan. Well, if being playful counts as irresponsibility, then I'll be that. It's certainly got to be better than being an all-business, stone-faced rules lawyer with a stick up his-_agh!_" He let out a yelp as both feet suddenly shot out from underneath him. He did a sideways flip and landed hard on his back. A puff of dust rose and fell.

"You were saying?" Talos asked, politely.

"You-_you _did that! Talos, you _flipped _me!"

"Don't be silly," said the alien, in the same mild tone. "It must have been a freak wind. They do happen around the spires. Now, come on-it's nearly sunset."

He turned and started away, and Kaven watched him for a moment with an air of offended dignity. Then a little smile touched his lips and he got up, brushing himself off as he followed his master.

* * *

"You've been training with the MagnaGuard on level four," Talos said two weeks later, as they went through their usual sparring routine. He turned aside a thrust from the pilot and then counterattacked with a series of slashes that Kaven parried.

"I'm going to see just how bad level five is later on," the human replied, ducking a swipe from his master. He tried to use the Force to push Talos back, but the Jedi Master had insulated himself from such a blow. Once their sparring had really started, Kaven had learned to do the same. It would take a particularly hard hit to get through that protection. "It beat me last week, but now it's starting to get sluggish again."

"You're progressing faster."

"I've been practicing every waking hour."

"You're talented with the lightsaber."

Kaven flashed a grin at him. "I know."

Abruptly Talos' blade connected with the officer's right arm. Immediately the limb went numb and the lightsaber dropped from his fingers. "Don't get overconfident," the Chiss said sharply. "You have yet to master anything I've taught you." He extinguished his training blade. "That will be enough sparring for today."

"But it's not even noon," Kaven protested, trying to rub some life into his arm. It would be pins and needles for the next two hours.

"Use the rest of the day to meditate and train. Go to the valley south of here, past the springs. You've done many training exercises there already."

Kaven nodded, knowing the place. "Yes, I'll do that."

* * *

If the sun-beaten plains of Feladorn could be called desert, then the valley south of the canyon was an oasis. The roar of waterfalls filled his ears as he walked through the gap that led down into the valley. Red dirt and bare rock gave way to greenery and moss, and the smell of water hung in the air. Shiny green insects that looked like dragonflies to Kaven's eyes shot this way and that.

The pilot brushed the dust from his tan jacket and leapt down, using the Force to cushion his landing eight metres below.

He had spent hours training there under Talos' watchful eye, learning how to move objects around using the Force, and how to use it to enhance his own movements.

This place was teeming with visible life. Kaven walked through the valley to where he usually meditated alongside his teacher, sitting down and crossing his legs. His arm was still numb and tingling, and carefully he began to restore feeling to it, calling on the Living Force to do so. Apparently Jedi could heal as well; no wonder they were called sorcerers across the galaxy.

Talos was big on the Living Force, and he had taught Kaven well. After some time he could feel his arm again, and after more meditation and healing it was back to normal.

Kaven _was _progressing faster than before. He went hard at his lessons, sucking in everything that he could about the Force and the lightsaber, practicing each sequence of motion that Talos taught him until it was drilled in. It was a challenging task, a _very _challenging one, but the pilot was determined to learn all he could, aware that he would be teaching it to another person in the future.

_I hope Jan's all right, _he thought. _I _know _he's alive, but that's not the same thing._

Reaching out through the Force, he picked up a boulder. Another one followed, and another one. He made them rotate around him, and when he could not bear them any longer, he let them fall again.

The Force was strong with him, Talos had said. But the Chiss had told him that there were different aspects to it, like the Living Force and the Unifying Force. Kaven hadn't shown any indication of being stronger in his powers than the average Jedi, but he could feel the Force keenly and react to it, which accounted some for his reflexes. He wondered how powerful his brother was, and which aspect of the Force Jan would lean toward when he learned of it. Jan had always been a more cautious, quiet type than his older brother; probably he would take well to meditation and the more sorcerous aspects of it, rather than straight action and lightsabers.

Lightsabers. Kaven suspected that Talos was going to teach him how to construct one sometime soon-the Chiss had begun to mention physical aspects of the devices-and he was looking forward to those lessons. He had begun to consider the form of his own and what would best suit him.

He got up and reached for the training sabre at his belt. It flashed green as he ignited it. Idly he began to go through the forms he had learned, beginning with Shii-Cho and working his way up to what little he had learned of Ataru.

He should have brought the remotes with him, he thought, as he practiced. Talos had him using three at a time now, sometimes blindfolded, and it had certainly given him the incentive to polish his defensive manoeuvres.

After he had gone through it all again he stopped and extinguished the blade, then began to walk along the valley floor. He went to the great pool at the foot of the falls and undressed, then jumped into the water. The water was so cold that it at first took his breath away, but then he got used to it and paddled around, scaring fish and trying to dive all the way to the bottom. Once he had tired of that, he got out and towelled himself off with his shirt, then put his trousers and boots back on. His shirt and jacket he left off for the time being, opting to dry out in the sun.

For a while he sat at the poolside, thinking about the things he had learned over the past few months, and then his eye lit on something that he hadn't noticed before. There was a large boulder to the side of the waterfall, partially hidden by the wall of water, and there was a crescent of darkness visible behind it.

Always in the mood to investigate something new, Kaven rose and went over to it, rolling the boulder aside with a gesture. It revealed the mouth of a cave, which extended farther than the pilot could see into the darkness.

He didn't have a lantern, so he used the training blade to light his way as he went into the cave, reaching out through the Force and probing with mental fingers for anything living in it. There was nothing of note, though, and presently he found himself examining the walls on all sides.

There were drawings everywhere, some carved and others painted onto the rough stone wall. They were crude, mostly consisting of rough straight lines and stylized outlines. The one that Kaven was looking at now was a circle with a spiky corona around it; either a sun or an exploding star. There were hundreds of little figures around it. Sun worshippers?

His eyes travelled across the walls, and he stopped dead when he saw that the drawings were _moving._

He looked back to the circle and corona. The little figures around it were waving their arms, and the spiky halo of the sun moved in weird patterns. Kaven passed a hand before his eyes, but it didn't stop. He watched as the sun exploded with an expanding ring. The little figures all dissipated except for one, which moved away. The pilot's eyes followed that one, which ran along a series of jagged and violent-looking lines before stopping in a patch of triangles and odd hourglass-shaped things. The jagged lines smoothed there and became concentric, winding patterns that bled into the next set of drawings, which had been painted on in blue and red ink and depicted two figures on a journey. The red one was on the bottom, and the blue one was directly on top of it. The blue journey was rough, but it looked peaceful in comparison to the other, whose path was becoming progressively darker and more jagged. Kaven found that he could not look away from that one, though the paths overlapped at times. Circles and other figures appeared and were dashed to pieces, and the red figure-no longer red, but black-eventually wandered into a circular patch of dark stained rock. There the dashed pieces of the other figures began to migrate, and Kaven got the impression that a sort of weird, hollow prison was being built. He looked back to the blue figure, which had become lighter as it progressed, and which now stood in a sun of its own. There were little figures around it. More sun worshippers.

Shaking his head, Kaven took a step back and then nearly fell, overwhelmed by a sudden sense of dizziness. He must have pressed the button on the lightsaber as he stumbled, for it suddenly went out, leaving him in darkness.

* * *

He awoke when a rush of icy cold water hit him in the face, and he coughed and wiped the water out of his eyes.

A pair of glowing red eyes were looking down at him with some concern, and after a second's confusion Kaven saw that they belonged to Talos. The Jedi Master was leaning over him, and he saw that he was lying on his back in the grass, not far from the cave entrance. The boulder was back in front of it. "What..."

"You inhaled some gases in that cave that you shouldn't have," the Chiss told him, sitting back on his heels as his padawan pushed himself up on his elbows, "and passed out."

"Ugh. I think it had some other effects." Kaven rubbed his face. "I started hallucinating in there. The drawings on the walls were moving."

"Yes?" the Jedi Master asked mildly.

The pilot lay back, looking up into the sky. "I don't know. An exploding sun burned a bunch of people to ashes and then some others walked along a bunch of lines that turned dark and nasty. One of them survived, but the other one got killed or trapped or something. It was hard to tell. Not your usual graffiti, anyway." He looked up at Talos. "How'd you know to come here?"

The alien shrugged. "I felt something happen to you, and I came."

Kaven laced his fingers behind his head. "It's nice to know you care about me."

Talos didn't touch that one, knowing the pilot would probably have a wisecrack ready for any answer he could give. "Perhaps that was a prophetic dream. Jedi are known to have them at times."

Kaven's little smile faded. "If that was my future, I'm not looking forward to it." He sat up, his temporary good humour gone, and glanced back to Talos. "It might have been a warning instead of a prophecy. The one path got darker and more violent as it went."

"We must always be careful to stay away from the dark side. Come, I think your training for today is done."

The Chiss rose. Kaven trailed behind him as they left the valley, still frowning in thought.

* * *

That night he lay in bed with his fingers interlaced behind his head, still thinking of the vision he had had. The images would not leave his mind, and he thought of the chaotic dreams and nightmares that he had been having since he had left Nar Shaddaa. Sometimes he was a Jedi in those dreams, but more often than not he was something else.

He closed his eyes, and the memory of himself on the battlefield came, leading Stormtroopers into battle amid a backdrop of flame. He wore black robes and wielded a blood red lightsaber. He was powerful, more powerful than he ever had been, and the might of the dark side flowed through him as he reached out and lifted an Alliance Arc with the Force, then smashed it into the oncoming Republic forces.

Kaven's eyes opened again, and he stared at the ceiling. He understood what that dream had been, now that he had learned more of the Force. In that vision he had not been a Dark Jedi, as he had originally supposed; he had been a Sith Lord.

The knowledge that somewhere inside of him was the potential to become the Dark Lord of the Sith was unsettling. However, Kaven was a student of the Jedi Master Talos, and he was aware of the double-edged nature of things. Yes, he had the potential to become a Sith Lord, should he turn to the dark side, but he also had the potential to become a Jedi Master, should he reject the shadows. Talos himself was not infallible, and he could have been Sith as well. It only depended on which way one faced.

The rationale, though comforting, did not settle him completely. He carried traces of the dark side with him, as he had ever since the destruction of the Death Star and the death of his brother, and he wondered if he might not carry them forever. His hatred of the rebels would not ease, and his anger at the Republic was an ember that would not go out.

_There is emotion, yet there is peace, _he thought. _There is passion, yet there is serenity. There is death... and there is the Force. The Force is in everything._

* * *

Over the next several weeks he progressed, throwing himself into his lessons, and once he had demonstrated the moves of each form to the Jedi Master's satisfaction, Talos rose and said, "Now you are no longer the match of a youngling."

Kaven extinguished the training blade, and the Chiss held out his hand. The officer handed it to him, and Talos put it away. Then he drew something else from his robes, and held it out to his student. It was slim and cylindrical. "You, I think, are ready for this."

Gently the pilot took the item from his master. "It is yours until you construct your own," Talos told him.

"Thank you, Master." Kaven took a step back, and ignited the lightsaber. A shining blue blade emerged, and a rush of pride ran through him. It was a _real _lightsaber, and he had earned it.

"Remember, when you draw your lightsaber, you must be prepared to take a life. Combat is the last resort."

"I understand. The Jedi are diplomats, not soldiers."

As he extinguished the weapon and slipped it into place at his belt, the Jedi Master said, "I will teach you how to make a lightsaber for yourself. Make it exactly as you like, and with whatever embellishments you choose." His padawan nodded. "From now on, your training will be less...fabricated and more situational. We will begin with a trip to Coruscant."

Now Kaven raised his eyebrows. "To Coruscant? But what will we do there?"

"We are going to visit the Jedi temple."

"But Talos, it's ruined."

"Then we'll visit the ruins," the Chiss replied. "You're no longer an amateur padawan, Erril. Your training must involve more realistic scenarios from now on."

"I agree with that, but I'm wary about leaving Feladorn. It's been the only safe place for me since the Kuan."

"You'll have to leave it eventually, unless you wish to become a hermit like the _other _blue man. That would be unacceptable for you, I think."

"That's true." Kaven bowed his head. "I've got my name to clear and my brother to think about. I can't just run away from it all. Well, what are we going to _do _in the ruins of the Jedi temple?"

"You are aware of the Jedi Trials and their different aspects. You will be undergoing one of them in the Jedi temple on Coruscant, and I imagine the rest will be elsewhere. You must pass all of them before I will grant you knighthood."

The pilot nodded. "I understand. You're not likely to tell me what this one's about if I ask, so I'll sit tight and see when it happens."

"Good. Three months ago you would have pestered me about this; you've learned patience since then."

Kaven smiled. "I've learned a lot of things since then, Master."


	8. Chapter 7: Jedi Trials

**Chapter 7:**

**Jedi Trials**

_Coruscant, located among the Core worlds. Once the seat of the Galactic Empire._

_One week later._

The vast metropolis that was now the capital of the New Republic sprawled out underneath them as they entered the atmosphere, a blanket of buildings and lights that covered every available inch of the planet's surface. The Jedi Master's ship was a Feladornian transport; not too large, but compact and conservative in its spaces. It would accommodate four people comfortably for a long trip.

"We're not likely to be welcome here," Talos said, as they sped toward the Jedi temple. It looked fine from a distance, but Kaven knew that its appearance was deceiving. During the reign of the Empire, the temple had been kept in its ruined state as a sort of trophy, a monument to the Jedi's destruction. Although Coruscant had been retaken by the Republic, the Jedi order had not relocated, and the temple remained uninhabited. "There were imperial guards here before the Republic reclaimed the planet. Now it's under Republic authority."

"Would they be willing to let us in?" Kaven asked doubtfully. "A Jedi Master and his padawan, after all." The imperial officer was sitting in the passenger's seat next to the Chiss, watching the temple grow closer. He wore the loose brown robes that were traditional for Jedi, as well as a light brown tunic and a high-collared black shirt that fit him like a second skin beneath that.

"There is a chance that we could convince the guards to let us in." They were hovering over the landing pad now, and Kaven could see the figures of Republic soldiers approaching. "In the worst-case scenario, we will fight our way in."

"But if they're not willing, a mind-trick would be a better alternative."

"In this case, I am inclined to agree."

The ship landed, and the two disembarked. There was a group of six soldiers there, all heavily armed and waiting for them. As they stepped off the gangplank a sergeant held up his hand and said, "This area is off-limits to the public. I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."

"To the public, but not to the Jedi," Talos said. "I have come here on a training mission with my padawan. We must enter the temple."

The soldier looked from Talos to Kaven, and his gaze travelled down to the lightsabers at their belts. "I understand," he said, "but I have my orders. No one is to enter the temple without the proper authority. May I see your identification, sir?"

"You don't need to see my identification," the Chiss said, with a little wave of his hand. "I am a member of the Jedi order."

"I don't need to see your identification. You are a member of the Jedi order. ...My apologies, sir. You may enter."

The man stepped aside and the two went to the entrance, taking care not to hurry. Talos glanced back at the Republic troops, who were taking up their usual guard positions again. "Go to the basement of the temple," he said in a low voice. "Your trial will be there. May the Force be with you."

"And with you." Kaven disappeared into the shadows, and the Chiss turned back to the soldiers.

* * *

The officer passed beneath the shadows of the pillars, and then entered the temple proper. A short corridor led to a great hall lined with broken statues on either side. The roof had fallen in on the far side, and debris blocked the doors there. Republic soldiers were patrolling, and as Kaven walked in his heart began to beat faster. He tried to walk casually, as though his presence there were meant to be, but Jedi or not, he was still wanted. He was very aware that the men were looking at him.

A cry of "Halt!" caused him to stop dead in his tracks, and he turned to see a soldier jogging toward him. _Casual, Erril, _he reminded himself.

"How did you get in here?" the man asked, stopping before him.

"The sergeant outside gave us clearance. My master is waiting outside for me-we're here on Jedi business."

The soldier gave him a scrutinizing look, and then nodded, to his relief. "I see. Pardon me, sir. Go ahead."

As he climbed up the stairs on the right side, Kaven caught a glimpse of the man he had spoken to talking to another soldier.

* * *

The young officer climbed over the rubble and followed the corridors to a smallish room, where smashed pillars lay amid pieces of broken statues.

The battle against the Jedi thirty years before must have been chaos. The interior had been damaged both by explosives and by the Force. Kaven could only imagine the battle between the Clone Troopers and the Jedi defending the temple.

A cold feeling stole into his mind, and he shivered at something he couldn't see. There was a presence growing as he made his way downward. Was the temple haunted? Were there Force ghosts here, spirits of fallen Jedi?

_Afraid of the dark side?_

He stopped at the entrance to a long room that was lined with statues of cowled figures, all of them damaged.

"Is someone there?" he called. The only answer was his own voice echoing back at him.

There was definitely _something _there, but whether it was a person or not was hard to say. Kaven stepped into the room. Quite aside from that something, the temple had a presence to it, a weight of ages. The Jedi Knights had served the Old Republic for thousands of years. The temple had seen countless generations of Jedi pass through its halls.

The Jedi had a tradition of testing the infants born on Republic worlds for Force sensitivity. Had the Old Republic not fallen, Kaven could well have been one of those younglings raised in the temple, along with his brothers. He wondered how different his life could have been, how different _he _would be, if he had been raised as a Jedi and not an officer.

A weird whispering started up. The pilot strained to hear, but in the few seconds that it lasted he could not make out any more than, "_...it tempt you. Turn back!_"

"Talos, if you're trying to scare me, I am not amused," Kaven said, but he could not feel the Chiss anywhere near him. His teacher was likely still at the landing pad with the soldiers.

He could feel someone else, though, and when he turned to face the dais at the far end of the chamber, he saw them. It was a man, slim and with dark blonde hair, sitting with his back to him, on the cracked and broken torso of a statue.

He had a bad feeling about this.

_It can't be, _he thought, approaching the dais. The man, clad in the uniform of an imperial naval officer, rose and turned to face the pilot.

"Lucian," Kaven said.

"Erril," said his brother. He looked as Kaven remembered him; handsome, twenty-five years old, in the prime of his career in the imperial navy. He never did see his twenty-sixth year.

"I..." He didn't know what to say.

"You've become a Jedi," Lucian said. "You've betrayed the Empire?"

"I didn't!"

"How could you? After what happened at Yavin...after what happened to _me..._how could you join our enemies?"

"I never did! I, I'm still with the Empire!"

"You're a Jedi traitor." There was a flash of red as a lightsaber appeared in Lucian's hand. It had an unusually long handle, and Kaven saw why the moment the second blade ignited. It was a double-ended lightsaber. "And you know the price for treason."

Kaven's lightsaber was in his hand and ignited within a second. "_You're not Lucian! Who are you really!_"

The apparition laughed, and the Force illusion melted away to reveal a Theelin woman with greyish skin and cold yellow eyes. "When Sith have nightmares, I am the face they see," she said, and spun the saberstaff.

Kaven's heart skipped a beat, but he reminded himself that Talos would not have sent him into a situation that would kill him so easily. He moved into the opening low guard of Makashi. "That's a pretty proud boast," he said, "to give a _Sith _nightmares."

"You do not know what nightmares are. I am Darth Phobos; I am fear incarnate. Everything you fear is open to me, all of your terrors are at my command."

The woman was a Sith Lord. Kaven felt a cold prickle run up his spine. Was it possible that Talos was unaware of what lay in the temple?

She began to advance on him. "I have looked into the deepest part of you and know what it is you fear."

She swung, and their sabres clashed, with a flash and crackle. Darth Phobos' expression was one of jubilance, as though she were enjoying the taste of what she had found. "And there it is," she said.

"No! Get out of my head!"

Kaven began to attack in earnest, trying to drive the Sith Lord back, but Darth Phobos only laughed and turned aside his attacks as though he were nothing more than an overenthusiastic youngling. She waved a hand, and the officer felt the air around him turn hard and forcibly slam into him. The breath rushed out of him at the impact, and he flew backwards. He hit the wall with bone-crunching force and hung there, suspended by the Theelin's power. He gasped for breath.

"The Empire is crumbling." She struck him again. "Its power is being eclipsed by the Jedi and the Republic. And you can do nothing about it."

"That's-a lie-"

"You are a weak fool of a Jedi. You fear the dark side and its power when you should embrace it." She waved her hand, throwing him back across the room. He struck a statue and broke through it, hitting the opposite wall. As he fell to the floor the Sith Lord said, "Without it your precious Empire will fall."

Kaven got shakily to his feet. "The dark side...is hollow," he said, extending a hand and using the Force to pull his lightsaber toward himself. He ignited it and stood in the opening guard of Soresu. "The dark side doesn't give. It only takes away."

"You don't believe those Jedi lies," Darth Phobos teased, brandishing her double sabre as she started across the room. In a flash she was Lucian again, and his boots clicked on the stone floor as he came. "Once you taste of its power, you will know."

"_Stop changing, witch!_" The pilot screamed at her, feeling a hot surge of anger rising in him. "_He's dead, let him rest!_"

"Yes! Use your anger as fuel! Give in to the dark side and strike me down, if you think you are able!"

They circled each other. There was a gleam of exultation in Darth Phobos' eye, and it looked sick and wrong on Lucian's face. Kaven felt his fury rising, and he wanted very badly to just let himself go and unleash all the force he had, just this once, but abyss called abyss and he knew that he would never stop at just once. He began to recount the Jedi code, silently.

It seemed Darth Phobos really could read his mind, for she said, "Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. This is the code of the Sith. See the truth of it."

Their lightsabers came together again, and sparks flew as the two clashed. Kaven's reflexes and skills were stretched to their limits, but it was nothing more than a warm-up exercise to the Sith, who responded to his most ardent strikes with fluid ease. He was woefully outmatched, yet not dead. With the hits he had taken, he should have been hurting more than he was.

It occurred to him at that that this was not a trial of flesh or skill, but the trial of spirit. Darth Phobos was not real. She could injure him, but not physically.

"Release your anger. Embrace your hatred," the Theelin said. "Only then will you have the power to avenge your dear Lucian and crush the Republic." When the officer did not respond to her goading, she let out a cruel laugh and said, "Well, if you won't give in to the dark side, perhaps-" she flickered and changed, "-_he _will," Jan finished.

Before he could stop himself Kaven let out a gust of Force, and Darth Phobos leapt back, an evil grin flickering across Jan's face. "You leave him out of this," the pilot snapped. "You won't tempt me to the dark side, witch-no matter how hard you try, no matter whose forms you take."

The grin faded. "You will watch the Empire crumble," said the Sith Lord, "and you will never be satisfied. You will see everything you care for be destroyed."

The padawan turned his back on her, extinguishing his lightsaber. "Go back to your holocron," he said bitterly.

Behind him Jan let out a feminine snarl of anger, and Kaven felt a burning pain in his back. He looked down, and saw a glowing red blade emerge from his chest. It withdrew, and he managed to stay on his feet for another second before his knees collapsed underneath him.

* * *

An hour had passed since he had regained consciousness, after the fight with Darth Phobos, and now the pilot sat at the base of the statue the vicious Sith Lord had been sitting on in the guise of his brother when he had entered the room. He was curled up, with his arms wrapped around his knees, and he had seldom felt so lonely in his life as he did now.

He had been fourteen when the news had reached home, that the Death Star had been destroyed. He had been with Jan when their parents had received the holo. _Jan, there__'__s something wrong, _he had said to him, and the two boys had gone to find their parents. When they had come in, they had found their mother sobbing on their father's shoulder. When their father had raised his head to look at them, a cold hand had seized Kaven's chest. He had never seen that look on his face before.

"Erril, Jan, you had better sit down," their father had said. Kaven had shaken his head, already knowing and not wanting to believe it, and then his father had told them the news. Just four words, but they had changed Kaven's life. "Your brother...is dead."

He hadn't said anything. He had turned and fled the room.

Much later, his mother had come to him and explained what had happened. The Death Star had been attacked and destroyed by the Rebel Alliance.

In the aftermath of Lucian's death Kaven had gone through a bout of severe depression, which had eased after a few long months. He had then decided to join the Imperial Starfighter Corps, and he had devoted all of his energies toward that goal. He had been accepted into the officers' academy on Corulag, had gone on to flight school. Into his training he had poured all of his grief and anger, and he had come out at the top of his class. He was a natural, they said-his reflexes were lightning fast and he had an instinct for dogfighting.

Throughout his piloting career he had been tapping not only into the Force, but into the _dark _side of the Force. There were a few battles that he remembered in which he had done so, and he remembered them because they had been...different. At the Battle of Salamand they had been surrounded by enemy ships, and in danger of losing one of their Star Destroyers; TIEs had been getting blown up all across the field, and at the time Kaven had fancied that he could feel the deaths of the pilots. He had gotten angrier and angrier, and his kills had grown to a phenomenal eighteen ships-_by himself. _He had frightened Roon, and later on, even the normally stoic Kore had admitted that their lieutenant had become just _scary. _The dark side had leaked to them in that battle as well; Roon's adventurous glee had become actual bloodthirstiness, and Kore's quiet intensity had grown to all and out fury.

It was the battle that had made him a captain. He had never hit that record again, had never even come close. He had never channelled the dark side quite so strongly again, though there were some battles in which he had become tainted with it. Again the dark side had leaked to his companions.

Kaven thought of Darth Phobos and her urgings. The trial of spirit was done, but he wasn't sure how it went. _I think I won, but I feel like I lost, _he thought, getting up. He started despondently for the exit, and stopped when he felt a disturbance in the Force.

_Erril! _He had the impression of his name being called. It had to be Talos; no other Force-user but Jan was close enough to him to do this. The mental shout was filled with an urgency that he had rarely heard from the stoic Chiss. _Back to the ship now!_

A voice called, "He went this way. Hasn't come out-probably still in there."

Kaven turned on his heel and saw a Republic soldier enter the corridor from the far side. "There he is!" the man shouted, and raised his blaster rifle. "Surrender, hands above your head!"

Instead of surrendering, the imperial officer's lightsaber hissed out, glowing an electric blue in the gloom. Levelling it before him, he began to advance. Something in his face and stance made the young soldier blanch, and out of nerves he fired on him. Kaven deflected the shot back at him, and two more Republic troopers came in just in time to see the first hit the ground.

They didn't bother much with formalities. "Imperial scum!" one of them exclaimed, as they both opened fire. Using the defensive motions of Soresu, the officer deflected their shots as he had the first, sending the blaster bolts back over their heads to strike the wall behind them. With a twitch of the Force he sent them both flying back, and they hit the wall as one, falling into a dazed heap.

All three were still alive. The first shot had been partially absorbed by the first soldier's armour, and he would pull through. The other two were barely conscious. Talos had taught him to take a life only when necessary. It was not necessary now.

Speeding up, the officer ran down the corridors that led to the great hall, leapt inside, and once he had landed he slipped into a Force-aided run, blazing through fast enough to avoid the blaster fire from the soldiers stationed there.

Eventually he emerged on the landing pad, where he saw Talos dealing with three of the six soldiers they had met upon touching down. A spectacular leap took him to the Jedi Master's side, where they immediately took up a back-to-back position.

"You called?"

"So glad you could make it," Talos said, holding his lightsaber before him protectively. "It seems you were recognized as part of the imperial military. Friends of yours?"

Kaven turned aside a shot from one of the soldiers. "I don't think I'll be inviting them over for tea. Shall we?"

"We shall." The Chiss hit the trio of humans with a ripple of Force that sent them skidding across the landing pad on their backs. Kaven turned back to the ship, noted a subtle little device that hadn't been there before, and deftly cut it off with a swing of his lightsaber. The halves of the homing device crunched under his boots as they ran back into Talos' ship. Within seconds they were lifting up, amid blaster fire from the soldiers that had been in the great hall, and within moments they had entered space and were preparing for the first of many hyperspace jumps.

"Tell me what happened," said Talos, as the stars became streaks. Kaven told him of the trial, of the forms that Darth Phobos had taken and what she had said to him, and how the duel had ended. "Hmm, yes, I see," he said, once his padawan had finished.

"Did I pass?"

Talos waved a hand. "I will consider it in the Chiss fashion."

Kaven sighed and settled back, putting his feet up and watching the blue swirls pass by.

* * *

As the Jedi Master and his padawan touched down on the dusty plains of Feladorn, across the galaxy a Twi'lek bounty hunter pushed aside the curtain that separated the two sides of the Frozen Nebula, and went back to her temporary partner.

"Bribery's not an option," said Madeen, sitting down across from him. "Mira liked Erril, and he was a customer. She never rats out a customer."

"What about the ones he left with?" Lieutenant Verdan prompted. "Does she know where they are?"

The Twi'lek shook her head. "She probably knows, but Argent's one of her favourites. They go way back-she'd never give him away on anything."

The imperial officer sighed. "And not one of your contacts knows anything." They had been moving from planet to planet, meeting with Madeen's contacts and trying to ascertain where the pilot had gone. They had been around the Core planets as well as Mid-Rim territory, and the human had swapped his uniform for ordinary black clothing. To the galaxy at large they looked like a pair of bounty hunters, and Verdan made a surprisingly convincing one.

"It's like he disappeared." Madeen drew a datapad from her utility belt and gazed down at it. "His bounty's over one mill now and rising; give it another couple of months and it'll be two." She sighed forlornly. "I can feel it slipping between my fingers."

Verdan sat back and watched a man walk into the back area where the Hutt generally stayed, pondering over their course of action. Madeen was still staring down at her datapad with a sorrowful look, so he checked his own. His mission objectives remained the same, but the bounty the Empire had put on Kaven's head had risen. It was substantial, but only if the pilot was brought in alive. According to Madeen the New Republic still had its bounty on the man, but it wasn't open to the Bounty Hunters' Guild, and the price was no longer available to her. After her 'double-cross' at the warehouse, Lieutenant Sutler had apparently crossed her off his contacts list.

After a while a shadow fell over them, and Diva set down a couple of glasses. "As far as you're concerned, it's on the house," the Theelin hybrid said. "That fellow over there's buying a round. Mira was generous with him, I guess."

Madeen looked up, saw the man that had bought them drinks, and brightened. "He's military." She waved cheerfully. "Hey, thanks! Come sit with us!"

Her partner frowned a little as he looked the man over, noting the New Republic uniform. The man was freshly on leave and hadn't bothered to hide his affiliations. The soldier came over and sat down next to the Twi'lek. Verdan's expression became stony.

"I guess you had a little something for Mira, am I right?" she asked, and they clinked glasses.

"It turned out she liked it better than I thought," the soldier returned, cheerfully. Then he looked at the imperial officer sitting across from him. "I'm not interrupting a date or anything, am I?"

Before Verdan could reply Madeen flapped a hand and said, "Oh, no, 's not like that. We're not _those _kind of partners. So! What kind of tidbit did you have for Mira?"

"Nothing too special. A rumour and a bit of recent news, neither one public, neither one state secrets." The human took a drink from his glass. "There was an incident at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. A couple of fake Jedi snuck in, looking like master and apprentice. The apprentice was probably trying to get at whatever records are left there now, but we chased him off before he could do much."

"Ooh, that sounds exciting." Madeen leaned on her elbows. "Were you there? Did you fight him?"

"Oh, I was there, all right," the soldier said, inflating a little at the attention she was giving him, and ignored Verdan's disapproving look. "I even got a look at the guy. He was dressed likea Jedi, but they said he was an imp officer."

"Was that the rumour?" Madeen asked, genuinely interested now. Her devious little mind was visibly working things out.

"Nah. The rumour is that the Empire's got a few Jedi working for them these days, and I guess we caught a glimpse of a few. There was that guy, and a Chiss, too. They were the real deal; they had lightsabers and everything. Not real Jedi, but imperial agents of some sort." He took another swallow of his drink. "Blasted imperials don't know when to quit. The galaxy belongs to the New Republic now."

Lieutenant Verdan frowned, and the bounty hunter asked, "What did they look like, the false Jedi? Imperial spies on Coruscant-this is so exciting!"

The soldier leaned back. "Well, the young guy had brown hair; he was sort of tall, maybe in his mid-twenties. Not bad looking, for an imperial officer. The other one was a Chiss wearing a white coat. He was probably in his early thirties. I didn't get much of a look at him-he knocked me flat before I could do anything about it." He paused. "But I was right up and after them in a second, let me tell you," he added, carefully preserving his ego.

Madeen patted his hand. "You'll get 'em next time," she said. "So then what happened?"

"They got into their ship and took off. Security's tightened around the temple now."

From there the topic wandered, and although the Twi'lek tried to get what details she could from the man, the soldier didn't know any more than what he had already told her. Keeping alert for any more leads, she kept him talking. Lieutenant Verdan listened to the conversation, but didn't contribute more than the occasional comment, and his demeanour remained unfriendly. When the Republic soldier had finally left, he said, "Erril Kaven."

The bounty hunter nodded. "Looks like he's got someone showing him the ropes now. It's gonna be a tough capture."

"Yes. A Chiss Jedi-perhaps Mira would be willing to supply a name, if not a planet." The scar-faced officer considered that, and then shook his head. "Not likely. She would know that would lead to Kaven's capture-Chiss aren't common."

"It can't be that he's joined up with the Republic," Madeen commented. "He likes it about as much as you. And unless he's changed drastically, that Chiss master of his probably isn't a Dark Jedi." She rubbed her chin. "Now, the Empire doesn't work with Jedi...but they do work with _Dark _Jedi, and if the Chiss looked like an _imperial _Jedi to those men...then he must be politically neutral. So the best place for him would be out of the reach of both sides."

"Wild Space?" the lieutenant asked.

"Maybe. But maybe not. There are plenty of neutral worlds on the Outer Rim. Since our pilot friend seems to attract trouble, that would be the safest place for him." The Twi'lek toyed with one of her lekku as she thought about it, and then said, "I'm going to see what I can get from Mira, and then we ought to head back to Coruscant. With a little research, I might be able to get us back on track."

* * *

Erril Kaven leapt from the spire of rock he had been perched on. It was no longer a safe place for him, a fact which was driven home as an explosion resounded. He landed squarely on the plateau where he and Talos often sparred, as shards of broken rock rained down all around.

His lightsaber hissed out. "Not good enough!" he shouted, as the spire collapsed.

Immediately there was a series of heavy clanks as the two droids he had been fighting leapt onto the plateau after him. They were B1s, light battle droids manufactured en masse by the Trade Federation during the Clone Wars. One of them looked a little patchwork, each of its parts slightly off-colour from the rest. He knew that one pretty well.

They raised their blasters. "_Die, Jedi scum!_"

Kaven repelled the shots. "That's harsh. I'm used to getting called _imperial _scum," he said. On the third round he managed to deflect a shot directly back at one of them, striking it directly in the face. It collapsed.

The patchwork B1 let out a tinny shriek as the padawan charged at it. "_Not again! Not again!_" It brought the blaster up to fire, but Kaven's lightsaber sheared through it before it could squeeze off a shot. There were two more streaks of blue, and then the droid fell in three pieces, flash-burned through the torso and the neck.

There was a heartbeat's pause, and then Kaven turned around. His green eyes searched the horizon. "That can't be all of them," he said to himself. "There were only four." Talos usually gave him a bigger challenge than this.

He reached out through the Force, and suddenly felt it. He leapt as far and as high as he could, flipping in the air as he did so, and there was a ringing blast beneath him. He landed in a partial crouch, lightsaber at the ready. The droid some distance away lowered its rocket launcher and began to reload.

The pilot's arm shot out, and without thinking he threw the lightsaber. It spun through the air like a glowing saw blade, and pierced directly through the droid's chest plate. Kaven pulled it back to himself using the Force, and as it returned to his hand, the droid exploded.

"Fighting in the Clone Wars couldn't have been this much fun," he said, casting out his senses again. He couldn't feel anything, and appeared to be alone in the badlands. "Hmm. I know Talos...he never lets anyone off this easily. This can't be over already."

"It's not," a man's voice said. Kaven jumped and turned around to find the Jedi Master standing a few metres away. The Chiss' lightsaber was out, the same electric blue as Kaven's, and he was holding it outward in the low guard of Makashi. At his padawan's shock the Jedi drew an X in the air with the weapon, with a flourish. A Makashi salute.

"How'd you do that!" Kaven demanded. He moved into the same position.

"By hiding my presence in the Force, of course. It's time you learned to do it as well."

They came together, their sabres clashing with violent flashes of blue. For a long time the electrical, distinctive sound of lightsabers colliding was all that filled the air, mixed with the occasional grunt of effort from Kaven, as he struggled to defend himself. The Chiss moved fluidly, as fluidly as Darth Phobos had, pushing his padawan back metre by metre. "Economy, Erril," he instructed. "You're not in a TIE Fighter, you cannot afford to lose ground like this."

Kaven gave him a quick nod and concentrated on defending himself without sacrificing what room he had. He found his rhythm a few moments later, letting his body move on its own as he fought the Jedi Master, and gradually moved around him, regaining the ground he had lost. Makashi was like dancing, he had found, and the more proficient he became, the more graceful he became.

Talos suddenly backed off a few steps, extended a hand, and let loose with a blast of Force that made Kaven's tunic ripple as if in a gale. The human only slid back a few inches, however. The Jedi smiled, and Kaven returned fire with a Force-push of his own. His master resisted it fully, with his lightsaber held crosswise as if he were blocking a slash from the pilot.

The padawan leapt back into the fight, and when Talos blocked his initial sweeping slash, he followed through with a series of smaller slashes, keeping his movements tight and close to the body. He read Talos' intentions through the Force, and moved to counteract them. Both men pushed against each other, and both took a flying leap back.

The Chiss actually laughed as he extinguished his blade. "Well done, very well done," he said. "You've improved a great deal."

Kaven took the compliment with a warm smile of his own. "Thank you, Talos-Master. But you're still going easy on me."

"If I were not, the fight would not last thirty seconds."

"Oh, cruel."

"Very well-forty-five seconds."

"That's better."

They started back in the direction of the grotto. "You have the MagnaGuard up to level seven," the Chiss remarked.

"Yes. It's tough that way, and I get beaten half the time, but I really get a workout." Kaven glanced behind them. "Where's your mechanic friend?"

"She was going to check the droids you were fighting...wait for it..."

There was a feminine scream of exasperation from beyond the crest of hill they had walked over, followed by what sounded like, "_Patches!_"

"I think she got attached to that one," Kaven said. "I think I'm going to hear about it later."

"She can put it back together again, but I think you're right."

"I'll make it up to her. I want to have a look at the local scrap yard to see if the parts I want for my lightsaber are there, anyway."

"It has a curved handle, I saw," Talos remarked. "Have you thought about the crystal?"

Kaven nodded. "Yes. After what you'd told me about sabre crystals, I had thought to go to Ilum, but I think something other than green or blue would suit me best. I did some checking on the public database in town, and I decided on Ortus."

The Jedi Master nodded. "The crystal caves there have red and gold crystals. But it's also home to an imperial outpost."

"Yes. The military base isn't right next to the caves, so we've got a chance of sneaking in. I've never been to Ortus, but the galactic survey has a lot of information on it. It's a desert planet. Not as nasty as Tatooine, but it's hard to be. It's got sandworms, though, really big ones."

"You're willing to risk capture and sandworms for a gold crystal?"

The pilot gave him a sidelong glance. "You said yourself that when one undertakes a job, one ought to make it as good as possible."

"Very well. I'll accompany you to Ortus. You get into too much trouble by yourself."

"I know it." Kaven heaved a sigh, though how much of his heart was in it, Talos didn't know. "Don't I know it..."

* * *

"Funds are getting low," Madeen said with some disapproval, as she checked her credit reserve. "On the Imperial Credit side, that is. I've got enough to take us through Republic worlds for a while, but they won't accept imperial currency."

Lieutenant Verdan's fingers flew as he checked their current position on the map. "The nearest imperial planet to us is Ortus. If we make a stop there, I can contact my commander and request the funding to continue the search."

"Sounds good." The bounty hunter considered. "Ortus, huh...I heard about the sandworms there. The Empire was posting bounties on them, five hundred credits a head. If we bag a few, it'll last us until your request goes through. Yeah, let's do that; who knows, we might even get lucky."

* * *

The great golden ball of Ortus loomed before the bounty hunter's ship when it emerged from hyperspace, and from where they sat Verdan and Madeen could see the first of its two suns peeking around the globe.

The imperial officer stood up. "I don't need to look like a bounty hunter here," he said, moving to the back. "I'm getting back into uniform."

Madeen nodded, and while he changed she idly scrolled through the bounty list posted by the Guild. Seeing that not much had changed, she turned it off, and caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Verdan's reflection in the darkened screen.

She held it still. The man's back was to her, turned partway, and he was naked from the waist up, currently pulling the shirt he had been wearing from his arms. His skin was very smooth, and she could see the clean outline of muscle beneath it as he reached for his singlet. He had gotten a tan from all their planet-hopping.

He slipped the undershirt on and reached for his tunic, which hung on a hook nearby. His profile was to her for a moment before he turned away again to resume dressing. The horizontal scar on his cheek was still vibrant, and probably would be for years to come, but it suited him somehow. To Madeen, who was proud of her own scars, it gave him an added edge of masculine beauty.

He fastened his belt around his waist, slipped his black gloves on, and put his cap on before coming back to the front and taking a seat. In the space of a few minutes, he had gone from bounty hunter to imperial officer, from scum and villainy to clean-cut and ruthless. She sighed and put the datapad away.

Her partner glanced over at her. "What?"

"You're a master of disguise," she said, as they accelerated toward Ortus.

* * *

The desert planet of Ortus had once been affiliated with the Old Republic; there were no sentient native species on record, but the planet had been settled for millennia, and it had been quick to join the Empire when it rose to power. It remained under imperial control even now. The Ortusians were strongly in favour of their regime, and it was doubtful that Ortus would ever fall under Republic control.

From the view of the spacecraft arcing down through the clouds, Ortus was a sea of sand, an endless expanse of dunes broken by oases. The ship touched down in the first of the planet's major spaceports, a large city whose white and tan expanse was broken only occasionally by the green of a date palm. The gangplank came down, and two figures disembarked.

They were dressed in pale robes and white head coverings, which also sheltered the lower part of their faces, leaving only a rectangle of skin exposed. The dress was common for the desert planet, and Kaven and Talos didn't stick out in any way as they left the airfield.

"I thought it'd remind me of Tatooine," said Kaven, as they walked through the marketplace. "It doesn't. It's much more...ordered."

Talos glanced around, surveying the area for possible trouble as he always did. The Jedi Master wouldn't stick out here even if he pulled his hood down; there were a few more Chiss in sight, one of whom was a merchant selling fried lizards. "There's a strong imperial presence here," he remarked. There were Stormtroopers visible, patrolling the market in pairs, and at one side of the marketplace a Balosar was clearly complaining to one of them, waving her hands as she talked. The trooper's body language spoke of weary resignation; he had clearly been posted on Ortus for quite some time.

"Yeah, tell me about it," the pilot replied. "Mm, those lizards smell good. Before we head out into the desert, I want to have some lunch."

"I'll get it, then. Keep an eye on things in the meantime, Erril-there are Stormtroopers everywhere."

Talos went over to the lizard merchant, and the two Chiss immediately struck up a conversation in Cheunh. Kaven didn't understand a word of it, and set his attentions elsewhere. The Force flowed strongly in this marketplace as beings moved and gathered around, selling, buying, and trading. It was nice being in a spaceport again, Kaven found, having missed the bustle during his time on Feladorn. He was a born pilot, and it felt a little like home.

He felt something familiar nearby, and probed it through the Force. It felt like someone he knew, but it was neither the glowering shadow of Hrakis nor the glow of another Jedi. There _was _another Force-sensitive in the marketplace, though, who was now walking by the pilot in the form of an elderly Caerulian with a tall wooden staff. He paused a moment, perhaps sensing the human, and he looked up at him. Kaven winked. Grinning, the Caerulian continued on his way.

"We're nothing special to those troopers," he said to Talos, when the Jedi Master came back bearing their lunch. "They haven't even looked at us."

"Good." The Chiss handed him a lizard.

* * *

"The crystal caves are this way, just over two hundred kilometres from the spaceport," Talos said, tracing the map with his fingertip. "As I understand it, the Ortusians use the crystals in some of their own devices, so the Empire has left the caves untouched. They'll be keeping an eye on who goes in and out, but by and large, civilians have free access."

Kaven nodded. "Exactly. That was a point in its favour while I was checking the database." He glanced around again, and stopped. "Hmm..."

"What is it?"

"Well, there's a beautiful blue Twi'lek coming through the market..."

"Erril, keep your mind on your mission."

The pilot's gaze didn't waver. "A Twi'lek I happen to know. Madeen the bounty hunter, subject to the most ridiculous streaks of luck I've seen outside of the Starfighter Corps. _She'll _be happy to see me."

"The bounty hunter." Talos' eyes moved to where Madeen was buying a satchel of honeyed and spiced nuts, and then back to Kaven. "You suffer from extremities of luck yourself, Erril. In both directions."

"That's r-oh, hell. Lieutenant Verdan's with her. We need to get out of here."

Kaven started to rise, but Talos caught his arm and tugged him back down. "Just wait until they're out of sight," the Chiss whispered. "There's no crowd here to cover us if you manage to catch their attention."

Kaven looked back down to the remains of his lizard, and just kept a mental eye on Madeen and the lieutenant, listening carefully.

"-said the fund transfer will go through by tomorrow," said Lieutenant Verdan. "Fifty thousand."

"Fancy," the bounty hunter replied, eating a nut. "We might as well bag a worm while we're here. I hate leaving bounties untouched."

"So I've noticed," the imperial officer said, dryly. The pilot glanced discreetly at them. The human and Twi'lek were standing about fifteen feet away. Madeen's back was to Kaven, but Verdan's profile was to him. The scar on his face still stood out clearly. He didn't have the spacefaring paleness he had had several months ago, having acquired a tan sometime over their travels. He stood comfortably at the hunter's side, and it looked to Kaven like they had become considerably more friendly in their alliance with one another. Spending a few months together would do that.

The pilot's gaze drifted across the area. It didn't look like they were accompanied by any Stormtroopers, but that didn't mean much. There were at least six in the marketplace, keeping an eye on things.

At last the hunter and the officer moved away, discussing something he didn't catch, and Kaven rose. Talos rose as well, and they hurried out of the market.

* * *

They managed to make it to the mountain range east of the city unmolested, a fact which rather astonished Kaven, given the way the Fates usually treated him these days. They stopped in the foothills and got out of the landspeeder, proceeding up the path on foot.

It was obvious that the crystal caves were an important feature of Ortusian life, enough that the entrance to the caverns had been carved into the likeness of a monastery. Talos and Kaven were dwarfed by the enormity of the structure as they approached it.

A Viper droid hovered ominously near the entrance, though it made no move to attack the two as they entered. Kaven was well aware that it was observing and recording them, however. It was a good thing that neither their faces nor their lightsabers were visible.

The front caverns were mostly bare, with only fledgling crystals beginning to form in places high up on the ceiling. They would have to go deeper to find any crystals of quality. "I don't see any recording devices," he whispered to Talos.

"They're only at the entrance," the Chiss told him. He reached up and unhooked the mask, then lowered his hood. Kaven did the same. "You're free to search for your crystal without worry."

Kaven nodded, and they began the journey into the deeper caverns.

* * *

Hours passed. Kaven wandered through the honeycomb of caverns, marvelling at the red and gold crystals growing everywhere. He examined every patch of them, looking closely and feeling his way through the Force, trying to find the one that he felt would suit him.

Then he saw it, shining in the light of the lamp. It was a solitary gold crystal, embedded in the roof of the cavern. He looked up at it, and it was perfect.

"There. That's the one." He nodded to Talos, and then began to climb up to where he could reach it. With great care he began to loosen the crystal, using a knife he had brought with him for the task. It came free and he caught it.

He examined it.

"Like an Ortusian sunrise," he murmured. It wasn't quite two inches long, and in its centre he could see a little impurity, a tiny flake of red smaller than his pupil. Despite that, he could feel nothing wrong with it. On the contrary, the crystal resonated strongly in the Force.

He leapt down. "This will finish it."

Seating himself on a smooth shelf of rock, he took out the assembled parts of his lightsaber. It was slim and elegant, with a curved handle and a curved hook that extended just past the pommel. When it was finished, it would be a weapon fit for an emperor.

Talos watched him begin the laborious process of fitting each of the parts together, using only the Force, with his hands moving as if to guide it.

"The crystal is the heart of the blade," the Jedi Master said, reciting the words of the ritual as he watched his padawan begin his rite of passage. "The heart is the crystal of the Jedi." The first parts snapped into place. "The Jedi is the crystal of the Force." The second parts followed. "The Force is the blade of the heart. All are intertwined." Kaven's eyes were closed now, and he held his hands still. The two halves of the lightsaber hilt hovered before him.

They came together. Kaven held it in both hands, reverently. "The crystal, the blade, the Jedi-"

He ignited the blade.

"-you are one," Talos finished.

The pilot stared at what he held. It was a brilliant gold, a trapped sunrise. It was both elegant and powerful, a weapon for a more civilized age.

And it was _his._

* * *

"Wherever he is, Kaven's probably with his Jedi master," Madeen said, as they looked over the onscreen map. It was currently shifting between sectors located on the Outer Rim. "That'll make it a lot harder to get him when we do find him. Kaven's not _that _tough on his own, or at least he wasn't before his training started, but Jedi aren't anything to sneeze at."

"You've dealt with Jedi before?" the lieutenant asked. They were standing in an office of the imperial base, where they intended to stay while they planned their next moves.

The bounty hunter nodded. "Yeah, a Dark Jedi. I'm standing here today because I was very prepared for that." She stopped the map. "There-Wild Space past the Hoth system. There's a few hospitable planets there, all neutral. Ammergau, Feladorn, Xion III, Collosia...they'd be the best places for him to go, if he were in Wild Space."

Verdan had never heard of any of those places. "Will there be recent updates to their coordinates?"

"Ammergau, I could probably get some. I doubt I could get any for Collosia that are fresher than three weeks. The others I might be able to get on short notice, but it'll cost me." She put her hands on her hips. "Speaking of which, I overheard some troopers talking. There's wormsign south of the spaceport. We should get out there before it fades."

"You have...a lot of interest in credits."

"I never had any as a tot," Madeen replied, as they left the room and started down the corridor. "Like a lot of Twi'leks, I started out as a slave. My last owner got his idiot self killed by a rival, so I ran away to make my own life, and for the first few years I was really scraping for credits. I feel better if I've got a healthy amount on hand at all times."

"A slave..."

"Hard to picture, huh? While this was going on, _you _were probably getting ready to go to the academy, following in the footsteps of your family."

There was a moment of silence from the lieutenant. "No," he said at last, "that's not how it was. I started as a Stormtrooper."

Madeen raised her eyebrows. "That must have been tough. The Empire likes aristocratic rich guys for its officers."

"I couldn't afford the academy."

The Twi'lek's expression was thoughtful as they got outside. "Maybe I should have known," she said. "You're imperial enough when you're in uniform, but you're a little rougher around the edges than the other imp officers I've known. Not as much of a snot, either."

He snorted. "I guess that's a compliment, coming from you. Thanks, Madeen."

She just smirked in reply.

* * *

"I sense something," Kaven said, as he and Talos raced across the desert sands in the landspeeder they had rented. They were very near the city by now.

"So do I," the Chiss replied, frowning a little as he looked around them. "Be on your guard, Erril-it may be sandworms."

"_May _be? I'm pretty sure it is, and it's-very-_close!_" The pilot suddenly swerved as the sand ahead of them erupted like a geyser. Both he and Talos leapt clear as the vehicle plowed into a dune, sinking halfway into the sand. Kaven's lightsaber hissed out as he landed, and he faced the thing that was now reared up before them.

The sandworm was enormous, much larger than he had ever pictured. It had to be three metres in diameter alone, and how long its body was, the padawan could only guess at. It towered over him by at least ten metres. It had three mouth parts, which opened as it hissed at him. Kaven was vaguely reminded of a mine crab.

"Once prey is selected, they don't give up," Talos said, at his side. The Chiss held his lightsaber before him as well. "If we try to escape, it will follow us-into the city, if need be."

Kaven nodded. Their options unrolled before him; kill the sandworm, be eaten by the sandworm, or escape from it and consequently leave behind untold devastation and civilian death in the spaceport. The latter options were just unacceptable. Still, as he looked at it, the creature seemed out of his league. Its body was thick with muscle and its hide looked tough and leathery. It could snap him up in one bite.

The pilot felt its intention to do just that, and leapt as it went for him, using the Force to sail higher and farther than he ever had. He landed beside it, and his lightsaber flashed out once, leaving a long slash wound on its side. He caught a glimpse of white, and saw that Talos had leapt onto its back and was hanging on with his knees, safely behind its head. For a second he wondered why the Jedi Master was not stabbing it, and then he remembered. Vermicular creatures had multiple clusters of organs along their bodies, and thus no singular deathblow could happen. It would take at least one from each of them.

"Erril!" the Chiss called. "Its body is too thick to remove the head in one stroke."

"I understand," Kaven called back, watching as the creature got ready to lunge at him a second time. He and Talos would combine their stroke, scissoring their lightsabers, the pilot from below and the Jedi from above.

He put on a burst of speed as the sandworm snapped at him, turned direction sharply, and ran beneath its neck as it began to pull itself up again. He clove it through as he went by, and he both heard and felt the _**vum **_as Talos did the same.

He threw himself clear as the head fell, and the body collapsed a minute later. It began to twitch and wriggle spastically, and with clinical precision the Jedi Master ran it through at odd intervals. The body soon stopped moving.

"That was bigger than I'd expected," Kaven remarked, after the dust had settled.

"We have company," the Chiss said, extinguishing his lightsaber.

Kaven looked over his shoulder, and immediately hid his own weapon when he saw the crowd of Ortusians coming to have a look. They were within sight of the city, and the worm hadn't gone unnoticed. He tugged his facial mask up again, and Talos did the same.

There were some scattered cheers at the sight of the dead sandworm. Behind a group of Balosar, one Stormtrooper nodded to another, who turned and left quickly.

* * *

Major Allis was at his desk working when the door slid open and a Stormtrooper came inside. "What is it, trooper?" he asked, without looking up.

"Sir, a couple of civilians have killed a sandworm."

"Mmhm. You know the procedure, then; transfer five hundred credits into one of the accounts. Split it between them if they wish," the officer said, reaching for a stamp.

"The sandworm is, uh, huge, sir."

"They tend to be, trooper."

The Stormtrooper shifted. "No, it's...really, really _big_, sir."

At his tone the officer's pen stopped, and the man looked up at last. Without a word he got up and went outside, with the soldier following closely.

* * *

By now there was a semicircle of civilians surrounding Kaven, Talos, and the sandworm, and a number of them were applauding. There was a noise from behind the crowd, and a line parted to allow a hatchet-faced imperial officer and a Stormtrooper access.

When the man saw the creature he could only stop and stare at it in shock for a moment, before he buried his astonishment and turned to the Jedi. "This is the largest one on record," he said. "Had you not killed it, it might have posed a significant threat to the town."

Kaven examined the officer. The major seemed to have no recognition of him, which was a blessing. His face was covered, mind, but still... "Good thing we did, then," he said.

"The five hundred credit bounty posted for sandworms did not take into account ones that were over thirty metres long. I would be willing to extend this one to six hundred, as a bonus and at my discretion," the major told him.

The pilot thought it was worth more like two or three thousand, but decided not to make it an issue. The man could easily have kept it as five hundred, on the grounds that it was still just one worm. "Fair enough," he said. "We'll take the credits and go without further ado, if you don't mind, Major. We've got a man to see about a mynock."

"I understand. I am also a busy man." The officer turned and gestured to a Stormtrooper. "Go get that thing for the transfer."

"Its head is off," said a Devaronian. "How'd you take its head off?"

"Sheer grit and muscle," said Kaven.

"You don't got any, though."

"I had some help."

"Oh, that sandworm is enormous," said a woman's voice. Kaven smiled and turned, and when he saw who the speaker was, his reply died in his throat. "That's so brave of you to fight it."

Madeen smiled at him.

"Er," said Kaven.

"Hey," said the Twi'lek, "You saved us all. You deserve something for that. Maybe a big kiss. I bet you're _real _handsome under there."

"That's really not necessary," the pilot replied, sweating bullets by now.

"Oh, a reward is necessary," Lieutenant Verdan added. "You saved the town."

"I'm happy with the five hundred credits, really."

"That's so humble of you." Madeen crept closer. "But you're not _that _modest, are you-" she reached out and pulled his mask down. "-Erril Kaven?"

From where he had been taking the transfer pad from a Stormtrooper, the major froze. "_Erril Kaven?_"

Kaven leapt back, and his lightsaber flashed to life. Talos did the same.

At the sight of the lightsabers, the major's expression changed to outrage. "_Jedi!_" He snapped his fingers at the troopers. "Shoot them down!"

The pair of Stormtroopers fired, and the Jedi turned aside the blaster bolts, directing them safely into the sky. Using the Force Kaven pulled the rifles from their hands and threw them into the sand behind them. The two leapt over the heads of the imperials and shot toward the town in a sprint, amid the shots from the officers.

"You must have been cursed at birth with interesting times," Talos said, vaulting up onto the flat roof of a building on the outskirts of the port.

Kaven followed suit. "Can't argue with that." A blaster bolt whizzed past, between his arm and his side, and he winced. "Time to get off planet, and _fast._"

* * *

"They're heading for the spaceport," the lieutenant said, as he and the bounty hunter dashed for their landspeeder. Overhead, the two Jedi were leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

"I know a shortcut," Madeen replied, leaping into the driver's seat. The second the imperial officer had jumped in they were off, flying through the streets at breakneck speed.

* * *

"If they keep this up, they'll catch me eventually," Kaven muttered, as they came to a halt by Talos' ship. The ramp lowered. "I can only hope my luck holds out."

"Luck is a terrible thing to depend on," Talos said, disappearing up the walkway. His apprentice followed.

"It's served me well _so _far." Kaven watched two figures roar up in a landspeeder, and felt an eerie sense of déjà vu. Madeen and the lieutenant leapt out and started for them, but the ship lifted up. The pilot caught a glimpse of the bounty hunter whipping something at them, and knew that she had stuck a homing device on their hull, as usual. "I doubt it will last forever, though. We'll need to stop and take that tracer off before we go back to Feladorn."

Then he sighed as they breached the atmosphere. "This is getting ridiculous..."

* * *

"The last tracers never worked," the lieutenant said with some frustration. "Is there a point to using them anymore?"

"This time," Madeen replied. The Twi'lek looked strangely triumphant, despite having lost Kaven again. "It's a distraction."

Verdan looked over at her. "Explain."

"I recognized that ship's make. It's Feladornian."

"We have a lead now." The imperial officer crossed his arms. "Finally. We'll rendezvous with my squad and make for Feladorn as soon as possible."

* * *

Kaven came into the cockpit as they emerged from hyperspace. He took one look at the planet looming before them and asked, "Where are we?"

"Mygeeto," the Chiss told him.

After they had landed, the pilot got off, tucking his Jedi robes around himself as he looked out over a war-torn city. A cold wind was blowing, and it appeared uninhabited.

He looked over his shoulder. Talos was in the process of removing the homing device. "I'm going for a walk," he said.

"All right. I won't be long here."

Kaven nodded, and started off.

The Mygeetan city was in ruins as far as the eye could see. Rubble coated the platforms and walkways, and there wasn't a soul in sight. It was cold, too-though there was hardly any snow visible, the air was chill and the pilot could see his breath.

_This place really got ravaged by the Clone Wars, _he thought as he walked along an abandoned bridge. Some of the buildings were still intact, though most had been damaged or destroyed by the bombardments. Out of curiosity he went into one of the whole ones, opening the door with a wave of his hand.

It was freezing inside, and he was glad for the gloves he wore. After a few minutes' wandering, the padawan found his way to the security office. The computers there seemed to be undamaged, and he considered them curiously, wondering if they were still usable. _Might as well, _he thought, reaching for the switch of a likely-looking one. _There's not much to do here until Talos finishes with the ship._ The Chiss was as fastidious about the ship as Kaven was with his own, and would likely check over everything else while he had the time to do it.

The terminal came on. He waited patiently as it booted up and went through a reindexing before coming to a usable stage. There were recent bits of camera footage still available, provided _recent _referred to thirty years ago. Kaven selected one.

The screen shifted to a scene caught years before, and the imperial officer watched as Clone Troopers advanced across the bridge, led by an elderly Cerean Jedi. On the other side, Federation droids created a hailstorm of blaster fire.

_That old fellow sure can move, _Kaven thought with admiration, watching the Jedi's lightsaber weave and dart. _Jedi Master for sure. Maybe even one of the masters on the Council._

For a moment he felt something pass over him, a small wish that he could have been one of the Jedi back then, in the glory days of their order. That wish was shattered as the Clone Troopers suddenly gunned down their own general. Order 66 had been issued.

No, he decided, he did _not _want to be a Jedi during that time.

Before he could watch any further, the screen went black. Leaning over, he flipped the switch again. Nothing-the power had finally gone out for good. With a sigh he went back outside, putting his hood up against the chill wind.

There was no indication that Talos had finished with his work, so the officer trudged down a ruined street, occupying himself with thoughts of the future.

He had enjoyed his time on Feladorn. But then seeing Madeen and Lieutenant Verdan back on Ortus had reminded him that he had a lot of work to do. He wasn't sure who the lieutenant reported to; if the man worked for the army personnel aboard Kaven's home fleet, he could try negotiating with him. He needed to talk to Admiral Makar. Unless Thule had come up with some brilliant cover story, the officer was not likely to think of him convincingly as a traitor, so there was a chance that he could clear things up. Thule would have him shot on sight, so he would have to avoid the _Imperial Dawn _and its personnel. Unfortunately, it was their flagship, and it would be next to impossible to contact and arrange a meeting with the admiral without it coming to the attention of the wrong people.

He sighed. Eels were starting to look positively cuddly next to imperial intrigue.

Halfway across a bridge, he froze. There was something there, another Force-user. He slowly looked up. There was a figure in a black cloak crouched on a rooftop several hundred metres away, and as Kaven watched, it turned and vaulted out of sight.

Without thinking about it, he took the lightsaber from his belt. He knew damn well who that was; he would know that dark presence anywhere.

With the weapon held firmly in hand the officer stalked forward, following Hrakis deeper into the city.

* * *

When a warning resounded in the Force a few minutes later Kaven whirled to face a dark alleyway, igniting his lightsaber. The Chistori hurtled out of the shadows a second later, and their weapons clashed briefly before each leapt back to assess his opponent.

"You've improved," Hrakis said smoothly, holding his red lightsaber levelled before him in one hand. "So, you have found a Jedi of your own."

"What are you doing on Mygeeto?" Kaven demanded.

"I wish to acquire something. What is not your concern."

"It's a holocron, isn't it," the pilot said. The Dark Jedi's eyes narrowed. "I didn't know what you were about when we first met, lizard-face, but I've got an idea now." He pointed the aureate sabre at Hrakis. "You're looking for a Sith holocron. You want to _be _Sith."

"You _have _learned. But you are still only a padawan."

"I'm going to be a lot more than that."

Hrakis moved into the opening stance of Shien. It was a powerful form and took a great deal of strength to use. Kaven had no doubt that the Chistori had the strength to bring it to its potential. "That," he said, "is where you err. I have not yet repaid you for your insolence on Kuan."

Kaven offered him a Makashi salute. "I owe you more than that. You'll find I'm a lot tougher than I used to be."

The Dark Jedi flashed a smile that was full of teeth. "We shall see."

They circled each other, and then Hrakis shot forward, swinging his lightsaber down and crosswise. Kaven sidestepped, and the red blade left a black streak burnt into the fallen chunk of ferrocrete behind him. The pilot went on the attack then, and their lightsabers collided in flashes as they fought.

Kaven brought his downward, and Hrakis caught it on his own, crosswise, and thrust the human's arm aside. Before the pilot could react properly, the Dark Jedi punched him in the stomach. All of Kaven's breath rushed out, and he felt his feet leave the ground for a second. Then they lifted again, as Hrakis hit him with a gust of Force that sent him flying. He hit the ground six metres away and rolled another two.

"You have improved," the Chistori remarked, as Kaven slowly got to his feet. "You have potential. Perhaps I'll reconsider killing you."

"Still willing...to have me...as Sith apprentice...huh?" the pilot managed. He was still bent over partway, and pain roiled through his abdomen. Hrakis was _strong._

"I sense much of the dark side in you. This could be a great source of power, if you were to only use it."

A part of Kaven agreed, but he ignored that part and said, "The Sith only destroy themselves. No-I refuse the dark side."

The Chistori frowned. "And yet you call yourself a part of the Empire."

Kaven extended a hand, and his lightsaber shot into it. The gold blade hissed out. "Yeah. If there are no imperial Jedi, I'll just have to be the first."

They came together again. Hrakis was stronger, but Kaven's reflexes were faster, and he managed to turn aside every blow the Dark Jedi dealt. The Chistori was quick, despite his size, and he had a considerable strength advantage over the human. Kaven simply was not strong enough to force him back, nor was he yet skilled enough to penetrate his defences. Hrakis was going to wear him down.

Hrakis hit him with a gust of Force and he skidded backwards, almost losing his balance and just managing to keep it. Knowing that he wasn't likely to win a duel with this being, Kaven backed off.

The Chistori smiled, aware that he had every advantage, and then scowled when the human suddenly vaulted up onto the top of a pile of rubble. "Are you running, you coward?" he called after him, when Kaven had leapt onto the roof of a short, ruined building.

"I'd call it a strategic retreat," Kaven called back with a bravado that he didn't feel, and jumped up onto a higher building. He felt Hrakis coming after him and ran faster, using the Force to leap onto a walkway connecting to a landing pad.

When the Dark Jedi followed, the pilot was ready for him. Hrakis' yellow eyes widened for a second when he saw the wall of rock flying at him, and to Kaven's discomfiture he simply clove it in two with a powerful slash of his lightsaber. "Enough of your games," he said. "It ends here."

He came at him; their sabres clashed, and locked. Kaven's arms trembled as he held him off, and he felt himself being forced downwards. He pushed back desperately, trying to find the strength to resist Hrakis, but it was a strength that he didn't have.

His arms gave, and with a slash the Chistori knocked the lightsaber out of his grip. The world seemed to come to a halt then, with Kaven down on his knees before the Dark Jedi.

Kaven looked up at Hrakis, who seemed to be moving in slow motion as he drew his weapon back for the fatal slash. _I, I never stood a chance, _he thought, numbly.

Hrakis' arm stopped.

_But I'm just a padawan..._

The killing blow never came. The Dark Jedi started to look over, and then an explosion seemed to rock the landing pad as the air rippled around them. It hit Hrakis, who was thrown into the air with a yell of pain and surprise, and as he went over the edge of the pad someone was grabbing Kaven's shoulders and hauling him to his feet.

The whole business had taken perhaps three seconds or less, and the pilot found himself looking with numb shock into the face of Talos.

"I can't let you out of my sight!" the Jedi Master exclaimed. "I just can't!"

"Talos...?"

"Ship repairs are done," the Chiss said briskly. "Now let's _go _before your friend recovers from the slap I just gave him."

Kaven looked over, saw a pair of clawed hands scrabbling at the ledge, and came to his senses. With a Forceful yank he pulled his lightsaber back into his hand, and ran for it alongside his master.

It took them only a few minutes to get back to the ship and board it, and without much ado they had breached the atmosphere.

"One thing after another," Talos muttered, as he punched in the hyperspace coordinates.

For a moment the pilot was unsure of what to say, and then settled for, "It's not as though I went looking for him." That may have been true, but he hadn't avoided him, either, when he _should _have.

"I suppose that was Hrakis."

"Yes." Kaven's fingers curled into fists in his lap, clutching at the brown robe he wore. He didn't have anything to say for himself; what he had done had been both stupid and arrogant, going to fight a Dark Jedi when he hadn't even finished his training. His cheeks grew hot. In a TIE Defender he was among the best, but that knowledge had apparently clouded his judgement and made him overestimate his skills in other areas.

Talos didn't say anything about it, though, not until they had emerged from their first hyperspace run a couple of hours later. "During the days of the Old Republic, the Jedi took Force-sensitive babies and younglings to be trained at the temple. They would grow up as Jedi, without encountering the difficulties presented by learning the ways of the Force later in life," he said. "Erril. Despite how new the concept of the Force had been to you in the beginning, you've progressed quickly through your training. Your _physical _training."

Kaven didn't reply, and merely waited for the Chiss to continue.

"When those younglings grew up at the temple, they grew up among Jedi, and they learned their ways firsthand. Their lives revolved around them. Yours does not."

An icy feeling stole into the pilot's stomach. Was Talos about to sever his apprenticeship?

His worry proved unfounded when the Jedi Master continued, "You've come into your power quickly, and the recent events on Mygeeto have shown me that you haven't adjusted to your powers-in a manner of speaking. Your responsibilities haven't kept up with you."

"I...realize that fighting Hrakis had been arrogant," Kaven said. "I got ahead of myself."

"Yes, you've realized your mistake, which is a start. I would rather spread out your training, but I understand that we don't have as long as I would like. You're aware of what else might constitute a quick rise to power, so you must be very careful in how you conduct yourself in the future."

"I understand. I'll try to be more aware of what I can and cannot do."

"Yes. To that extent, another Jedi trial is approaching. As before, I'll keep its nature to myself. When the time comes, I'm sure you'll be prepared."

"Yes..."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Darth Phobos is not mine. She's from the game _The Force Unleashed_. I liked her melodramatic Sithness, so I couldn't resist giving her a little cameo. =D


	9. Chapter 8: Many Partings

**Chapter 8:**

**Many Partings**

_Lucinia. A small, volcanic planet located on the Outer Rim territories._

_Four weeks after the Mygeeto incident._

A lone figure wandered through the desolate valley, which stretched out as far as the eye could see. Steam issued from natural vents around him as he walked, reminders of the volcanic hotbed that lay beneath his feet. The rock here was scarred and discoloured, covered with calciferous buildup from its exposure to the open air.

A fissure released a puff of steam at his left, and the hooded figure stopped. There was a stillness to the air that was suspect, and there was a feeling of watchfulness.

His green eyes moved to a cave mouth higher up the slope, and the black creature that had been watching him silently backed into its cave, its eyes reflecting what little light there was in an eerie way. Since his arrival on Lucinia they had learned not to mess with their visitor, but they kept an eye on him nonetheless.

The figure's black-gloved hand reached into his robes, and when it emerged again it held a curve-handled lightsaber.

"I know you're here," Kaven whispered, his gaze sweeping back across the valley.

Then he heard it. The slow, inexorable clank of metal feet on stone, almost hidden by the roll of thunder through the hills.

He turned then, his dark robes swinging, and his lightsaber blade flashed out, glowing like a captured sunrise in the half-light.

Six points of red light shone in the darkness beneath an outcropping of rock, and three figures stepped out.

Standing with his sabre pointing to his side and downwards in the fencing style of Makashi, Kaven made a gesture with his left hand. _Come on, then._

The lead figure twirled its electrostaff with a flourish and stalked forward. The other two MagnaGuards followed, their intentions clear.

In a second Kaven was among them. He blocked the first series of blows from the leader before penetrating its defence with a precisely angled thrust. He swept the electrostaff to one side, aiming carefully. The blunt end of it struck the third MagnaGuard's left visual receptor, shattering the lens. Before the leader had brought its staff to bear Kaven had sliced through its legs, cleaving the both of them through with a sideways stroke at the knee. Without pausing he brought the lightsaber back up, moving into a series of purely defensive manoeuvres as he backed away from the two MagnaGuards. Their staves whirled and thrust, but the Jedi trainee knew well what he was doing and they did not manage to strike him once.

With a dextrous shift of his feet Kaven got behind one of the MagnaGuards and sliced its head off at a stroke, his momentum-gathering twirl reminiscent of a dancer. His lightsaber came about in a circle and collided with the staff of the remaining droid, who pushed against him, seeking to use its mechanical strength advantage. The pilot had been training specifically to counterattack such an advantage, though, and with an almost Judo throw he sent the MagnaGuard flying past. It hit the ground at a roll and was back on its feet within a second, turning and running back at him.

The padawan leapt and caught the thing in a jump-kick that caused it to rock back slightly. It was back on the attack immediately, even before he had landed, and both staff and sabre were blurs as they fought. Kaven brought his weapon up in a rising slash, and as the blade hit the shaft of the electrostaff he added a burst of Force to both the strike and to the droid.

It was as if he had delivered a spectacular uppercut. If it had been capable of expression, the MagnaGuard's look of surprise might have been comical. A little smirk touched Kaven's lips as he jumped, following it upwards.

The final blow was a thorough one, and split the droid in two vertically, from the top of its head to the fork of its legs. Kaven landed amid broken droid parts, and with another flash of gold took the head off the first MagnaGuard, which had been crawling toward him all the while.

Another warning came through the Force, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw what was rolling his way. Two destroyer droids-Droidekas, often called Jedi Killers. They and the MagnaGuards had made up the elite cadre of the CIS forces. The Confederacy of Independent Systems had won many battles with those things.

Inexplicably, Kaven recalled that he had owned a few action figures of them as a boy.

_Gotta get rid of those things before they unfold, _he thought, drawing his hand back. If they managed to stop and uncoil, their shields would come up and their rapid-fire functions would start. A pair of Droidekas could mow down a Jedi in seconds.

His hand shot forward and he sent a wave of Force at them so hard that the air between them rippled violently. The Droidekas shot backwards so fast that their parts were a blur, and one of them struck the edge of a rock wall hard enough to explode in a rain of cybernetics. The second one had been luckier, but not for long. Kaven seized that one and slammed it into the same rock wall, hard enough to leave a dent and shatter it like its partner.

He paused to catch his breath, and then realized that those two had been a distraction. He whirled, eyes widening at what had just flipped up fifteen metres behind him.

The Droideka already had its shields up and was getting ready to turn him into mincemeat. With a curse the padawan threw himself out of the way, and a hearty chunk of the rock behind him was torn apart by blaster fire.

In a manner that was almost prim, the homicidal droid began to orient on him again, its spidery little legs working as it turned.

Kaven scrambled up the nearest slope onto a rocky projection, feeling the rock and dirt beneath his feet getting rapidly shredded. Once he was up and safe, for the time being, he reached out and plucked a boulder from its resting spot and threw it at the droid. The Droideka backed off a little at the impact, but even three hundred kilograms of rock didn't penetrate its shield. Kaven pulled up another boulder and threw it, then repeated the process. Seeing that the three stones had fallen on either side of the destroyer droid, he rolled a fourth one into place with a wave of his hand. The thing was trapped now.

_Let it shoot its way out, _he decided, sliding back down to the bottom of the slope and continuing on his way at a near run. _I've got a Chiss to find._

* * *

It wasn't until a few hours later that he came upon anything other than the desolate wastelands of Lucinia. It was an old building, a temple of some sort, and he felt the emanations of the Force coming from it.

_Talos, _he thought, gripping the handle of his lightsaber.

He went inside. The interior of the temple was considerably cooler than the air outside, which had the warmth of a summer evening, and in the great and silent corridors his footsteps rang loudly. He softened them. Sound seemed foreign here.

The glow-lamps on the walls were spaced widely and the halls were filled with shadows. As Kaven passed by a myriad of little lights in a deep nook in the wall opened up, like pairs of eyes. They oriented on the Jedi trainee, and narrowed slightly as they began to follow after him, flowing out of the crevice in a swarm.

Kaven heard the quiet click of their footsteps and turned, igniting his lightsaber. The creatures following him were revealed in the sudden light. The pilot raised an eyebrow, immediately wary. He had never seen anything like these creatures, which were a dark, purplish blue and had body forms like weird bats walking on their wings. Their visual receptors glowed yellow, and they made odd clicking noises as they considered him. They weren't quite one metre long, not much bigger than buzz droids.

_Gripe, I'm surrounded, _he realized. There were at least six of them in front of him, four behind, and more climbing down the walls.

Through the Force he felt one descend, and slashed above his head with a precision born of endless practice. There was a solid _vum, _a shower of sparks, and the creature landed in two halves at his feet.

He started. "Wires-you're droids!"

At that moment they all jumped at him, apparently programmed with the tendencies of pack hunters. Kaven's lightsaber lashed out in all directions, severing droid limbs and cutting others in two, and he felt a sudden rush of pain move upward from his left leg. One of the droids had jabbed him with something. With an adrenaline-aided kick he sent that one flying. Another blast caught him from behind, and for a second he jerked spasmodically.

As their primary weapons the droids were armed with tasers, or at least something like them. With his lightsaber flashing Kaven fought for some breathing space, taking several painful shocks and jabs in the process. At least they didn't have blasters; he'd be dead by now otherwise.

He was shocked to see that the darkness was filled to the ceiling with the glowing eyes of the droids, and without thinking he let out a destructive ripple through the Force. The pulsation struck the droids head-on, and there was the grinding of metal on stone. The eyes suddenly seemed to speed away, as if Kaven were being sucked backwards. The crunch of broken cybernetics filled the air.

Tired by the sudden blast, Kaven leaned against the wall. The corridor seemed to be waving gently, and for a moment he wondered if he was on the verge of fainting. His thoughts seemed to be steeped in hot mist, and it was somewhat harder to concentrate on things than he would have liked.

The wavy feeling soon passed, and he continued down the hall, leaving the broken droid parts behind him and holding his lightsaber aloft to light the way. With mute curiosity he noted that some of the stones on the walls were moving in and out, like pistons, and for a while he thought that they might fall on him. When they failed to do so, he just continued on.

_This place is __**weird, **_he thought, later on. Twice he had heard the sound of ocean waves crashing on the shore, and once he thought he had smelled mynock, but when he had looked up there had been none of the little buggers there. The walls were still doing their piston thing, and by now even the floor was getting into it. Kaven hadn't tripped yet, but he was unwilling to let the floor take him by surprise and walked carefully.

He entered a large room whose smell reminded him of something tasty he'd eaten on Caerul, mixed with a coppery metal. There were a few vines hanging from the ceiling here, oddly enough, and as the pilot got closer he saw that they weren't vines, but snakes.

No...not snakes. _Eels._

Kaven came to a dead stop then. _I'm surrounded by eels, _he thought, with rising horror. _I'm surrounded by slimy blasted green eels hanging from the ceiling!_

Another thought chased that one. _But how did Talos __**know?**__ How _could _he know?_

How the Chiss had ever managed to learn of his disgust of eels-it _wasn't _a phobia-he would never know. With a cry of disgust he took a swing at one of the eels, which dissipated like smoke as the blade passed through it.

That gave him pause.

_Illusionary eels, _he thought, through the heated cotton of his mind. _Talos, you and I are going to have words._

The eels all dropped from the ceiling and landed on the floor with wet splats, and Kaven recoiled when they flowed past him. _Illusionary, illusionary, _he reminded himself.

The clank of heavy footsteps tore through his distraction, and he looked up.

And up. And up.

It _looked _like a Super battle droid, but it was way bigger than them. An Ultra battle droid, but even bigger than they were supposed to be; B3s were usually just under five metres, but this thing had to be eight or even nine. It was gigantic.

The panels on its forearms flipped open, and it prepared to fire on him. Letting the Force guide him, Kaven deflected the first few shots before leaping into the air. His lightsaber blade connected solidly with the droid's head, and he passed by it. He landed gracefully.

Then he realized that something was terribly wrong.

By rights, the thing should have fallen. He had cloven right through its head, its behaviour core, but the thing was fine. In fact, he saw, as he deflected another round of shots, there wasn't a scratch on it.

Using the Force to spin the droid around the other way, Kaven leapt up and slashed again. It connected, but the red-hot band his lightsaber had left behind faded, leaving the metal untouched.

_Invincible droid? That's impossible! _With blaster fire at his heels he streaked toward the droid. He delivered a blow as he passed by, managing to slice through its left leg. This time the slash had an effect; the B3 went down on one knee.

He didn't stop there. Unsure of which areas he could and could not affect, the human struck at its extremities and found that its weapons were not invulnerable. Now that the droid had been declawed, Kaven found it easier to close his eyes and allow the Force to direct him.

The droid didn't last long after that. Stopping to breathe a sigh of relief after it was over, Kaven looked the remains of the thing over and found that it really was the size it should have been-just under five metres. All the higher strikes he had made had missed because he had simply been aiming too high.

He passed a hand over his eyes. "Talos must have put an illusion on that, too," he murmured. "Funny...he never uses illusions otherwise..."

He took a step, and then collapsed to his knees. _That must have tired me out more than I thought, _he decided. This training exercise on Lucinia had lasted a few days already. Most of that time had been spent fighting droids and Lucinia's native life. He supposed it was natural to get tired, but he had been through more demanding exercises before.

The floor was doing the piston thing again. He couldn't hear the stones grinding together as they moved, though he probably should have. He didn't hear anything but his own breath.

Kaven got up again, the calf of his left leg aching a little, and continued on.

* * *

A few minutes after the padawan had left, another figure entered the room. Although Kaven had seen a dark and forbidding temple chamber with an eerily-moving floor and horrid little eels dangling from the ceiling, this figure saw only an empty, darkish room with dusty cobwebs. It walked to where the B3 had fallen.

"_Conclusion: Adult male human Erril Kaven has ambulated in this direction. Blood trail is now negative due to organic life-form function of coagulation,_" it said. "_Footprints of 1.79 metre humanoid will suffice._" It glanced down uncaringly at the guardian battle droid, now lying in pieces. "_B3 series Ultra battle droid. Fourth-class drone. Current designation: Scrap metal. Presumable fight with organic. Conclusion: Lost badly._"

It gave the pile of metal a vicious kick. "_Wimp,_" it added, contemptuously.

* * *

"So there you are," Kaven said, swaying a little as he got into the room. The figure standing before the altar turned around. Though it wore concealing black robes and its hood was up, the pilot could see the glow of red eyes beneath the cowl. "Four days of fighting droids and carnivores and surviving on the Force alone, chasing you across this volcanic wasteland where every step hurts-" His lightsaber hissed out, lighting his face in the gloom. It looked drawn and tired. "Sounds like the Trial of Flesh to me."

Talos-it had to be him-didn't say anything, and merely waited.

Kaven came fully into the room. "I've crossed badlands where the sand and rocks are like crushed and broken glass. I crossed a boiling river. I've fought three Droidekas, six MagnaGuards, and twelve B1s since landing. The things in the temple don't count."

A movement under the cowl indicated that Talos had raised an eyebrow.

"And now," the pilot continued, "I've got to fight _you_."

The figure's hands came out of its cloak then, and two red shafts of light erupted from the handles it held. "_Come, then._"

Kaven started. "What the-" Unless Talos was using illusions again, that was _not _the Chiss' voice. This one held a strange echo and was somehow _incomplete, _as if the figure had studied speech extensively but had never tried it out before.

Talos didn't dual-wield, either. As part of the training regimen he had taught his padawan the basic moves of Jar Kai, but the Jedi Master was of the opinion that only one lightsaber was needed at any time.

The figure leapt from the dais and ran at him, and Kaven threw himself aside. The figure turned and came at him like a wild animal, and their lightsabers collided. The human found himself being pushed back under its onslaught of violent attacks. This was not Talos' style; in fact, the Chiss would have disapproved of this savagery.

So who was he fighting, then?

"Who are you!"

No answer.

"Whoever you are, we don't need to be fighting like this! This is not the way of Jedi!"

Again there was only silence.

Kaven tried again, parrying a series of chopping strokes that might have cut an arm from his body had he not been possessed of a pilot's agility. "Cease and desist! I'm calling a truce with you!"

In response, the figure laughed. It was a chilling, reverberating sound.

The human grunted as he levelled his lightsaber, taking a solid stroke from each of the creature's sabres along its blade. Whoever or whatever it was, it was quite strong. Not as strong as Hrakis, but stronger than Kaven. He used the Force to lend some artificial strength to his body, supplementing his defence.

"Very well," he said. "You leave me no choice."

It came at him again.

As they fought, he studied the figure's movements and found that it was actually rather clumsy with the lightsabers. It was the same way as its speech-studied, but not practiced, learned, but not ingrained.

Kaven had spent the last five months studying under Talos, who moved through his battles like an erratic lightning bolt, and it came as no surprise that he seized an opening a moment later, piercing its defence and severing its left hand at the wrist. The corresponding lightsaber hit the floor and rolled, and as it jumped back with a keen of pain, the pilot pulled the weapon into his own hand. He slipped it into an inner pocket of his robe, watching the figure all the while.

It was distracted now, looking at the stump of its wrist through eyes narrowed to slits. He saw that its skin was a dark grey, and tried to think of what species this lightsaber-wielding thing could be.

Those thoughts halted immediately when he saw that dark tendrils were flowing from where its veins should have been, and within moments a new hand had sprouted. It flexed the fingers, looking up at him again.

Kaven drew his lightsaber back, ready for the attack. When it came, he plunged the glowing blade through its chest. It barrelled into him and tossed its remaining lightsaber aside, taking hold of his upper right arm with both hands. It seemed to ignore the sabre piercing it, and when the pilot cut to the side, nearly cutting the thing in half, it tore his arm open with its nails, from bicep to forearm, all the way through his sleeve.

He let out a scream of pain and struck out at it with the Force, sending it flying back across the room. It struck the wall and fell behind the altar, and the officer fell to his knees, clutching at his bleeding arm. Strangled cries erupted from him, and he rocked back and forth, holding the limb. He had never felt anything quite like this before; pain flared up his arm, as though his blood had begun to boil. There was no escaping it-it was more than physical, as if the Force itself had clamped down on him.

Blood spattered the floor, added drop by drop. His breath came in short gasps as he struggled to deal with the unnatural agony that had now spread past his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of the thing that had cut him open. It was standing now, coming cautiously from behind the altar. Its hood had fallen, and he could see that it looked vaguely like a dark-skinned Talos. As it came closer, he found that its facial features were different, though there was a notable resemblance.

Kaven's arms shook. It was like poison invading his system.

It padded closer. He could see his blood on its hands.

Something dark opened up in the lower recesses of his thoughts and rose like a black tide, aggravated by the pain roiling through his body. _Kill it! Kill it now!_

Without thinking he reached out with his left hand and seized it through the Force. He had never before crushed anything, but now he did, squeezing it with the intent to kill and with a certain vicious enjoyment, feeling as though he could never do it hard enough.

Had he been aware of how he looked as he did this, he might have stopped. As it was, he was caught in the throes of it and for him there was, for a moment, nothing but the desire to destroy this creature.

There was a wet pop, and as the black, greasy pool of its fluids spread gently over the stones he sagged, then fell to his knees again. The dark feeling had taken the pain to the background for that brief moment, but when it retreated the agony washed over him again.

He went to his hands and knees with a moan. His vision swam, and when he squeezed his eyes shut, tears of pain hit the stones with a splash.

He didn't hear the clicking until it was very near, and when he turned to face the source of the sound, his face was pale and beads of sweat stood out on his skin.

"Not...you...again," he gasped.

There were more of the bat-droid things, a dozen of them at least. They were coming from the corridor on the side of the room from which he had come, and there were more walking along the walls from that direction.

It was too much. Far too much.

Nonetheless, he struggled to his feet and held his lightsaber before him in the opening stance of Soresu, determined to last as long as he could.

They swarmed forward. He met them.

Although he cut down droid after droid, the swarm just kept coming. He was getting increasingly worn out, and was taking more shots from them than he should have been. He couldn't concentrate enough to use the Force, either.

It wasn't until he was on his knees again and saw an electric blue light moving around that he realized that someone else was in the room with him. It was Talos, moving almost too quickly for his fatigued padawan to follow, mowing his way through the sea of droids to get to him. With a leap he landed at Kaven's side, and his red eyes widened a little when he saw up close what state the human was in.

Still on his knees, Kaven reached out to him, pale and exhausted and battered. "_Master!_"

The Chiss wrapped an arm around him and helped him to his feet. "Erril, quickly...this way..."

The next few minutes were a blur to the pilot, who kept blacking out as they went. In the end Talos had to support him the whole way. He caught a glimpse of a corridor, a room, a repulsorlift, and then the clean lines of Talos' face, arranged into an expression of concern.

More darkness. Then they must have been out on the roof, because the Jedi Master was now leaning over him, and overhead loomed the dark clouds of the perpetual storm that covered Lucinia.

"Talos..."

"It's all right, Erril, you're safe up here..."

His eyes closed.

* * *

As the Jedi's ship lifted from the landing pad atop the old temple, a figure emerged from the elevator. It watched the ship depart, metallic fingers stroking the length of the blaster rifle it held.

"_Observation: Ship is of Feladornian origin, Transport Class M. Port of registry is at Dorgo Shipyards, Feladornian Sector 08. Bioscan readings indicate two organic life-forms aboard, one presumably adult male human Erril Kaven, the other adult male Chiss, name unknown._"

It considered. "_Probability: Adult male Chiss will be an obstruction in securing the Objective. Course of action is to be determined at TK-97's discretion. Conclusion: Kill at leisure._"

The assassin droid cocked its blaster with a satisfying click."_You can run, but you cannot hide, meatbags._"

* * *

Kaven stirred, and saw beneath half-closed lids that Talos still leaned over him. The Chiss' eyes were shut and his hands were raised, palms turned toward his padawan. They were in a ship. _The _ship. It looked like the medical bay.

He blinked, and suddenly the Jedi Master was on the other side of the room, consulting something over a holoprojector.

His eyes closed again. There was an eternity of darkness before he opened them again. Talos was back at it once more, but this time Kaven saw that the Jedi's hands were on his arm, the one that had been torn open.

"...Talos...?"

His master's eyes opened. "Just rest," he told his padawan.

There was another of the long blinks, and when he looked again, Talos was sitting across the room with his head resting in one hand, his eyes closed. An FX medical droid loomed overhead, and Kaven saw a long needle disappear into the back of his left hand. There were restraints around his wrists and ankles. He was bound to the table.

"Erril," the Jedi Master said, apparently awake, though he didn't open his eyes, "This procedure will be painful, but try to relax. It will help you."

Kaven cringed as the needles descended.

* * *

Talos sat back and watched as the medical droid began to draw out the poison. Although the human arched and strained against the cuffs, they held him down adequately. The Jedi Master watched carefully, frowning a little in thought. Under ordinary circumstances a pain-maddened Jedi could very well snap his restraints, but it seemed that Kaven was yet too weak to do so. He still bore watching, however.

The Chiss hadn't counted on Kaven losing his way in the temple complex, and after some thought had concluded that the chemicals released by the bat-droids' secondary weapons had a more substantial effect on humans than it did on related species. For Talos the shots would result in mild dizziness and some inconsequential visual impairments, but by the medical droids' reports, Kaven had been having full-on hallucinations as the substance swept through his system, which had only been exacerbated by the guardian's poison. By the time the Chiss had reached the altar room, Kaven's balance and ability to use the Force had been shot, and he had been so addled that direction had meant nothing at all to him.

The pilot's screams of pain filled the medical bay as the substance was drawn from his body, and there was a sudden _snap _as the cuff holding his right arm broke. Talos rose to his feet, but the medical droid had gotten there first, injecting a sedative. Kaven gradually stopped struggling, and his body relaxed. His master slipped a new cuff over his wrist.

Eventually the procedure finished, and the canister of Lucinian wraith poison was sealed and set aside. When he next awoke Kaven would be feeling much better, but for now he needed all the sleep he could get. The trial had been more draconian than Talos had intended.

The Jedi Master settled back in his chair and let his fatigue wash over him. He had been sustaining himself through the Force since leaving Lucinia, but there was no more need for it. He dozed off.

* * *

After some time he awoke to a soft moan, and he straightened, rubbing his neck. He supposed at first that his padawan was waking up, but then he saw that Kaven was still asleep. The pilot was moving a little, a weak attempt at tossing and turning despite his restraints. Nightmares, evidently. Talos considered waking him, but decided against it. The young man needed his rest, even if that rest was a fitful one.

After some time Kaven started talking in his sleep. The words were vague and disjointed, but what the Jedi Master could make out was telling. Nightmares usually were. The pilot called for his family, sounding quite young, and in his feverish cries a part of him that he would never have shown to another began to reveal itself.

That part of Kaven was his own, and Talos had no business listening to it. Out of consideration for his padawan the Jedi got up and left the medical bay, curtly instructing the medical droid to alert him to any changes as he passed by.

* * *

Hours later, he received a message from the droid. He returned to the medical bay to find Kaven awake and sitting on the edge of the table, rubbing his wrists. The medical droids had seen fit to unlock the restraints.

The pilot gave him a wan smile. His hair was mussed and he still bore the drawn look of trial and exhaustion, but he was worlds away from how he had been before.

"How are you feeling?" Talos asked.

"Like I was put in a sack and kicked down the slopes of Mustafar's highest peak," Kaven replied. "How are you?"

"Relieved," the Jedi told him, sitting down across from him. "I see that you're feeling better."

Kaven ran a hand through his hair. His words had been light-hearted, but his expression was serious. "What was that thing on Lucinia-and what's been going on? I suspect I've been asleep for a while. Can't remember much."

"That thing was a Lucinian wraith. Their origins are unknown, but it is suspected that an order of dark side adepts, possibly the Sith, created them. They're confined to Lucinia. They're notorious mimics and can even learn to use weapons. Poisonous creatures, as well."

The pilot looked quickly at his arm, which was bandaged. "Oh, _no._"

"The medical droids have seen to it. Those cuts are nearly healed."

"So, they took the poison out." Kaven gazed at his forearm for a while, and then asked, "How long have we been on the ship?"

"Three standard days."

"Three _days!_"

"You were in critical condition by the time I got you here, Erril. The medical droids purged the hallucinogens from your system, treated you with bacta, and drew out the wraith's poison."

Kaven closed his eyes, bowing his head in concordance. "Hallucinogens, huh...that explains it. Explains those nightmares, anyway," he added, to himself. He took a breath and ran a hand through his hair again, brushing it back from his brow. "Stars...I'm so tired. You don't mind if I go back to sleep, do you?"

"I would encourage it, in fact. I'll wake you when we reach Feladorn."

"Thanks..."

Talos watched his padawan slide down from the table and pad over to where his robe hung on a hook, taking it and slinging it over one shoulder as he went into the ship's sleeping quarters.

_And the navicom will wake __**me, **_he thought, heading back into the cockpit.

* * *

Kaven lay down on the bunk he usually occupied, and as he pulled his robe over himself he felt a weight in the cloth.

He reached into the inner pocket and drew out the lightsaber he had taken from the wraith, lying back with one hand beneath his head as he looked at it. _Three days, _he thought. _That thing laid me out for three days with one scratch. Three days of pain and nightmares. And just one scratch._

The infection must have really been tearing through him, then. He set the lightsaber handle across his stomach and lifted his bandaged arm, looking it over again. Clean white bandages covered the slashes, which he imagined as eight furrows gouged into his skin. He wondered if it would scar.

He let the arm fall, and wrapped his fingers around the handle of the wraith's lightsaber. The thing couldn't have made it, so it was probably stolen from some unfortunate Dark Jedi-or maybe the thing used to _be _a Dark Jedi. The pilot made a mental note to ask Talos about it when he woke up.

Kaven put the lightsaber back and settled down again, closing his eyes. Exhaustion had taken its toll, and it was not long at all before he had drifted into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Talos awoke at the navicom's declaration. "_Attention,_" it said. "_We are now within one parsec of Feladorn._"

The Jedi Master went into the passengers' compartments to find Kaven already awake and standing before the small mirror on the wall, shaving.

"Seems I look about as good as I feel," the human commented, lifting his razor. Curiously, he seemed to prefer a cutthroat razor to any other variety. "I could use some improvement on both fronts. Even my eyelashes ache."

"You've made a decent recovery."

"Had you worried?"

"Considerably," the Chiss said, with frank honesty.

Kaven actually smiled a little at that, and continued shaving. After a moment he asked, "Talos, what's that black shite in the medical bay?" Catching a glimpse of the Jedi's expression in the mirror, he quickly clarified, "Which is neatly sealed in a jar, I might add."

"That 'black shite' is Lucinian wraith poison," Talos replied, settling down again. "It's best that it remain in the jar."

Kaven swished the blade in the small basin of water before him. "I was thinking about those wraiths, and how quickly I got infected. Had it kept up, would I have died from it-or would I have turned into one?"

The Jedi Master shook his head. "I'm not entirely certain. For all I know, that may be just how they reproduce, if they do at all."

"If I never return to Lucinia, it shall be too soon," the pilot said, drying his face with a towel. He turned to Talos, leaning a hand against the wall. "You know, at first I thought that thing had been you, pulling illusions on me. It had a hooded cloak like a Jedi, and before I got a better look at it, it had sort of looked like you. But then, I was apparently hallucinating like mad by that point. It probably had tentacles for a face."

"Describe your trial to me. Begin at the point where I dropped you off."

Kaven did so. Once he was finished, the Chiss nodded and said, "We ought to be at Feladorn by now. When we arrive, you ought to take a few days' rest."

"I _could _use some meditation time..."

* * *

"Something wrong?"

Lieutenant Verdan came out of his reverie then, glancing at the bounty hunter. "No," he said. "Nothing." He had been sitting silently for the last hour or so with his head in his hand, staring off into space. "Nothing...important."

Madeen looked back to the control board before her. "I just sent the hyperspace coordinates to the others. We're on our last jump now-and then, Feladorn."

The human nodded. He had chosen to ride with the Twi'lek on the odd crustacean ship she had nicknamed the Lobstrosity, a decision which had probably puzzled his squad of Stormtroopers. They were eager to get back into business now that the completion of their mission objective had drawn closer.

"He's had time to train up since he got away from us on Nar Shaddaa; this is going to be a tough capture, V."

V. It was what she was calling him these days, and strangely enough, he didn't mind. Had anyone else called him by that nickname, they would have gotten nothing less than a stony look from the lieutenant, but this...was allowed.

He nodded again. "Yes. But this time we have my squad as backup. He's hesitant to cause imperial casualties-an advantage to us. One we should use. And I ho-I'm unsure of whether he would consider you as one of us."

"I hope he considers me imperial enough, too," said Madeen. "I'd hate to get shot down with my own blaster bolts."

Lieutenant Verdan frowned. While Kaven was perhaps unlikely to wilfully kill any of them, he knew nothing about the pilot's Jedi companion. The few Jedi of the New Republic did not hesitate when it came to imperial casualties, and the Chiss therefore presented a clear danger. "Battle ought to be the last resort," he said. "We'll attempt negotiations with Kaven first and foremost. If he does not return with us willingly, then we will take him by force."

"Sounds like your admiral's pretty interested in him," the Twi'lek commented, as the stars streamed around them.

"Yes. Admiral Makar is determined to have him back. He's valuable to the Empire." There was more to it than that, but Verdan was not about to mention it.

"You talked to the admiral, then?"

The imperial officer shook his head. "It would take special circumstances to meet with him right now."

The bounty hunter leaned back, hands behind her head. "You imperials and your intrigue. Not that the New Republic has any shortage of it, either, but it's been one adventure after another since I joined you. I could get used to this."

_You don't know the half of it, _Verdan thought, as they leapt into hyperspace.

* * *

The ship breached the atmosphere and landed on the plains outside of Cael Dorath with mechanical efficiency, and the passengers disembarked. Four pairs of metal hands held blaster rifles almost lovingly, and four pairs of metal feet tramped over the dusty ground.

The TKs surveyed the sun-beaten landscape with disdain. "_Disparaging Remark: What a dustbowl,_" one of them said.

"_Report: Adult male human Erril Kaven and adult male Chiss of unknown name are unlikely to be in town,_" another remarked, checking its scanner.

"_Statement: That is a redundant observation. Self has already ascertained that the meatbags are hiding in the vicinity of the canyon. In concordance, self will secure the Objective while TK-98, TK-99, and TK-95 will secure the perimeter._"

"_Objection: TK-97 had the pleasure of terminating the last Objective,_" another assassin droid shot back. "_TK-99 will make the kill this time, without interference from others._"

"_Correction: TK-98 will secure the Objective and terminate both Jedi while others look on in awe,_" the second replied, putting the scanner away. "_Additional Correction: The Jedi are not in the canyon, they are south of the canyon. Self is of the opinion that TK-97's sensors are in need of recalibration._"

"_Threat: Self will gladly recalibrate TK-98's sensors, if TK-98 continues in such a fashion. The meatbags are in the canyon._"

TK-95, who was distinct from the others by way of a scar-like scrape over its right visual receptor, shook its head. "_Sound Effect: Sigh. Statement: Self is of the opinion that the Maker should have quit after self was completed. Suggestion: Split up and search for the meatbags individually, thus eliminating the need for such useless organic bickering._"

The assassin droids seemed to agree to that. "_Statement: After self secures the Objective, self will return to the ship,_" TK-97 informed the others.

Without further comment, they spread out and began their hunt.

* * *

"Lieutenant. Apart from the town, the life-form scanners indicate activity in the petrified root forest below it, as well as the canyon and the valley south of the canyon," the sergeant reported. "Awaiting orders, sir."

"You four will go to the forest," Lieutenant Verdan ordered, indicating the chosen quartet, "and you four will search the town. The rest of you-search the canyon, while Madeen and I check the valley. If you encounter Erril Kaven and his Chiss companion, you are to negotiate first and foremost. Leave battle as a last resort; we are now dealing with Jedi. We want Kaven alive and, if possible, unharmed, by order of General Kordis."

"Yes, sir," the troopers said.

After they had left Madeen said, "We can requisition a couple of speeder bikes or some STAPs in town."

The officer nodded. "Yes. We have a lot of ground to cover, and Kaven might be aware of our presence already."

"Or his master." They started for the town, and then came to a halt a second later. "Oh, V," the Twi'lek said. "I've got a scanner and a recon droid in the ship. That will be useful."

"I know where they are. I'll get them." Turning, Verdan disappeared into the recesses of the Lobstrosity.

Madeen crossed her arms, looking out over the landscape. _I've got a bad feeling about this, _she thought, watching the first group of Stormtroopers descend into the forest of petrified roots below the town, while the second group took the lift up to the town itself. Beyond the canyon, an enormous tree rose like a tower, at least six hundred metres above the ground. Its roots probably reached all the way to the mountain range.

"_Statement: Self could not help but overhear the name of self's objective,_" said a mechanical voice from somewhere behind her. She turned, and discovered with shock that a droid was standing there with its blaster rifle pointed at her. If malevolence had a face, it would look like a TK-series assassin. The grey smoothness of its faceplate was marred only by a large scrape over one glaring eye. The sharp cords protruding from its head like metallic dreadlocks quivered, and there was the brief sound of cybernetics working. Then the droid said, "_Adult female Twi'lek is identified as the bounty hunter Madeen, currently in employment with adult male human Lieutenant Verdan. TK-95 assumes that adult male human Erril Kaven is your quarry. Query: Is this affirmative, female?_"

"Er-yes." Aware that it would shoot her if she so much as touched the blaster at her hip, Madeen held her empty hands in the air. The assassin droid put itself between her and the ship, cutting off her one avenue of escape.

"_Adult female Twi'lek has been hired by a different employer from self. Therefore, adult female is an impediment to self's goal, and is to be dealt with at TK-95's discretion. Conclusion: All impediments are to be terminated. TK-95 is very good at this. Hold still, fema-_" The assassin droid let out a screech as a chain suddenly wrapped around its neck, then snapped back again, pulling the droid with it. With a half-spin, the TK lost its balance and fell over. A blaster shot followed, and there was a brief rain of sparks from the droid's back. It lay on its face in the dirt, and did not rise.

Madeen looked to Lieutenant Verdan, who was standing on the ramp of the Lobstrosity. The imperial officer held the end of the chain in one hand, and in the other his blaster pistol pointed skyward. "Thanks," she said. She glanced down at the droid, who was still fizzling. "That thing couldn't be from the Republic, could it?"

Verdan came to her side. "It's possible. But those things are for assassination only-and from what you said, the Republic would prefer Kaven to be brought in alive." His dark eyes moved over the landscape, then back to the TK. "There's a third party here, then. Perhaps he _was _framed, after all."

"If that's the case, we'd better get to him before _their _employer does," Madeen replied, with a nod toward the droid.

"Agreed."

* * *

"Scanner's picking up a few life forms. Nothing large. Keep going," the Stormtrooper at the front of the queue said.

"This place is creepy."

It was dark and eerily silent in the petrified forest, and the quartet of troopers looked around warily as they made their way between the stiff, hairy roots, aware of how well their white armour showed up in the gloom.

Something rustled, and they halted. The first trooper checked the scanner. "Small animal," he said at length. "Let's move long."

Something larger watched them from above, climbing over the twisted shelves of vegetation with practiced ease. It kept pace with them, and never made a noise. "So we're hunting a Jedi," a Stormtrooper said. "I heard..."

He was quiet, and just readjusted his grip on his E-11 blaster rifle.

"Heard what, trooper?"

"Did you hear about what happened at Kejim? A Jedi came. Killed all the personnel there."

The silence took on a deeper tone, like a black hole.

"What, all of them?"

"All the troopers, all the officers. Everybody. All dead."

One of the troopers, a born sceptic, shook his head. "Heard it was New Republic mercenaries, not a Jedi."

"They're capable of it, though. There's no telling what they can do."

"This guy is supposed to be on our side. He's an officer from the Starfighter Corps, not some half-crazed Republic scum."

"Can it, you guys. I'm picking something up."

They halted again. The Stormtroopers looked around, employing the night vision displays in their helmets. They spread out a little in a diamond formation, looking every which way.

A long tan tendril drooped down from above them, curled around the waist of the rear trooper, and yanked him upward, to the shock of his comrades.

"_Kip!_"

There was a gristly cracking noise from above their heads as cartilage broke, and then a body fell at their feet. It was saurian, with an open mouth full of hooked teeth and a black staring eye, and its head was twisted the wrong way.

The Stormtrooper it had nabbed jumped back down. There were tooth marks on his breastplate.

He looked at his comrades, tried unsuccessfully to think of a casual, irreverent remark, and then just shrugged instead. There were a few chuckles from the other troopers, and they turned away again.

Then the shot came.

The lead trooper was down before he had even taken a step, and a second shot knocked the man behind him from his feet before the body of the first had struck the ground. The two in the rear, protected from sniping by a thick pillar of root, flattened their backs against it.

Metallic footfalls came closer, and the Stormtrooper that had been third in line took the thermal detonator from his belt and activated it, peeking out briefly and throwing it into the darkness from which the sounds had emerged. There was a mechanical curse, a clang, and a deafening explosion.

"_Exclamation: Step out from behind that root, meatbags! TK-99 will gladly remunerate you for throwing a grenade in self's direction!_"

"Suggestion: Why don't you come here and try it, you walking garbage can!" one of the troopers yelled back, thumbing the setting on his blaster rifle to rapid fire. Through the corner of his visor he caught a flicker of movement, and ducked. A vibroknife stabbed overhead and buried itself up to the hilt in the root pillar, and the trooper's partner turned at the motions. Without pausing he turned to the assassin droid and opened fire. The hail of point-blank fire tore the droid nearly in two, and it let out a mechanical squark as it was blown off its feet.

The Stormtrooper went over to his fallen comrades, checked them, found that they were both dead, and then went back to the assassin droid. Without a word he shot again, and again until the parts were scattered across the dirt and there was no possibility of it ever getting back up again.

Lifting a hand, he opened the comlink channel in his helmet. "Attention, troopers. There are assassin droids here, I repeat, _assassin droids. _Two of our men are down. Be on your guard."

Lieutenant Verdan was the first to reply. "_State your location and tell me the droid's serial number,_" the officer said.

"We're in the roots, sir. The droid's number was TK-99."

"_The one we encountered was not alone, then. Stay under cover-there could be at least three others. Destroy them on sight-they're apparently after Kaven as well._"

There was a chorus of affirmations from the other troopers. The man switched the comlink off and readied his weapon, and they continued onwards.

* * *

"What was that?" Kaven rose to his feet, his meditations interrupted. "I felt something in the Force just now."

"I felt it as well," the Chiss said, also rising. "It hasn't stopped..."

There was a heartbeat's pause.

"They're here," the pilot said. "Madeen. Verdan. The troopers."

"Feladorn is no longer safe for you."

"No. But they're in trouble. I have to help them." Drawing the lightsaber at his belt, Kaven ran outside. Talos raised a hand, and pulled his lightsaber into it. Suitably armed, he followed his padawan.

* * *

Kaven ran for the nearest place that he felt presences, which was farther along the bottom of the canyon, and came upon a terrible sight. Four Stormtroopers lay facedown and motionless in the dirt, and a TK-series assassin droid was standing over them. It turned as he approached, and its eyes flared brighter for a moment when it saw him.

"_Statement: It is as self had predicted. Adult male human Erril Kaven is to be found in the canyon. Greetings, meatbag._"

Angrily, the padawan ignited his lightsaber. "You won't get away with this!"

"_Statement: TK-97 has been seeking adult male human Erril Kaven for 12,960,241 seconds. Self is impatient to secure the Objective, and will not wait a second more._"

"You're working for Thule, aren't you!"

"_Threat: Target will allow himself to be killed in a cooperative fashion, or TK-97 will promptly rearrange his kneecaps._"

"I'm going to chop you into _bits_, you crazy droid!"

"_Promise: Target will find it difficult to dismember self, if Target's own limbs are missing. Termination begins now._"

Kaven's lightsaber jerked into place, deflecting the punctuating shot. It went wild, missing the assassin droid completely. TK-97 did not seem discouraged, and drew a vibroknife from its back compartment.

Well aware of its intentions to enjoy his termination, the pilot swung at it, and the droid parried the blow. This started the duel proper, and Kaven found it surprisingly difficult to get a solid hit in, though he managed to skim it several times.

The droid's knife stabbed downward, and he caught it across his lightsaber blade. Remembering what Hrakis had done to him, he swept the droid's arm aside and, because he wasn't about to punch a metal construct in the stomach, struck at it with the Force. The TK had no protection against that kind of thing, and it skidded and tumbled away on its back.

Before it could get to its feet, Kaven picked it up through the Force and began to squeeze, intent on crushing it. He vaguely remembered crushing the wraith on Lucinia, and knew how to do it. With a final crunch, the assassin droid crumpled. Feeling rather satisfied, Kaven let it go. He extinguished the lightsaber and returned it to his belt, then turned to Talos, who had just rounded the bend in the path.

"There was an assassin droid here that killed the Stormtroopers," he said.

The Chiss nodded curtly. "There's more than one. I encountered another on the way here, which explains my tardiness. Unpleasant things."

If Talos had run into it, then the droid was lying in pieces where it had met him. "I've still got a bad feeling. I need to find Madeen and the lieutenant-I know where they are."

"Are you going with them?"

"No." Kaven's brow furrowed. "I've got a bad feeling about that. No, I think I need to do this on my own. And then it might turn out all right."

The Jedi Master was silent for a while, and then said, "Erril. Although there is much that I would like to teach you still, it seems that the will of the Force has spoken. It's time for you to return to the galaxy."

"Yes...I _want _to stay here, Talos. I want to learn to be a Jedi. But I can't stay on Feladorn any longer-not without endangering everyone on it."

"The crater in the centre of the valley past Cael Dorath has what you need. Meet me at the sun temple after you've finished your business with the imperials. May the Force be with you."

"And with you..."

* * *

Following his instincts, Kaven climbed up the slope, emerging in the rocky badlands that overlooked the plains between the canyon and the town. He caught sight of two figures on speeder bikes and ran down to meet them.

It was Madeen and Lieutenant Verdan. "Long time no see, flyboy," said the bounty hunter, getting off her speeder bike. In the blink of an eye there was a blaster in her hand. "You're coming with _us_."

"We've chased you across the galaxy long enough," the imperial officer added. His blaster was also pointed in Kaven's direction. "It's time you returned to the Empire."

Kaven's lightsaber hissed out. Verdan's eyes widened, and as he scowled the padawan said, "I won't attack you. I just don't want to get shot, either."

"Come with us, then-there are assassin droids hunting you here," Madeen pointed out. "They're evidence that you're innocent, because somebody obviously doesn't want you coming back and talking."

"Thule," Kaven growled.

Lieutenant Verdan's expression shifted from irritation to surprise. "Captain Thule? Of the Imperial Dawn?"

The pilot bowed his head in concordance. "Yes. He's the one that's behind all of this. I've got Admiral Makar's favour and Thule can't stand me, so I made the ideal victim. I'm not clear on the details, but it seems Thule's either a spy of some sort or planning to defect to the Republic."

"Erril, you must return with us and report this! If Thule is a traitor, you can help to convict him, and then the fleet can-" Verdan halted, and then finished, "-return to normal."

Kaven shook his head, taking a step backwards. "No. I want to, and I will come back, but the time's not right for it."

The imperial officer's lips thinned. "_No. _You're coming with us, and you're coming _now._"

The pilot's eyes shifted to something behind him, and then widened. The lieutenant looked over his shoulder, and the world seemed to freeze.

The assassin droid that had attacked Madeen outside of the ship had survived the shot Verdan had taken at it, and although it was in sad shape it had managed to follow them. It had snuck up on them while they were talking, and currently it had raised its rifle and was preparing to shoot the bounty hunter, who was looking over her shoulder with shock.

Kaven had an arm cocked, about to hurl his lightsaber at the droid. It would leave him open to a shot from Verdan.

The officer had a choice. He could stun Kaven and capture him, fulfilling his mission objective at the cost of his companion's life, or he could save Madeen and let Kaven get away again, failing his mission. It was either one or the other. He wasn't fast enough for both.

He made his decision.

The world exploded into motion again as he brought Madeen down with a flying tackle. Something hot skimmed over his left shoulder blade, leaving a burning streak, and he inhaled sharply. A whirling sound passed overhead, and there was a solid _vum _as Kaven's lightsaber flash-burned its way through the droid's circuits. At a tinkle of metal the lieutenant looked up and saw the pilot catch the weapon, which had apparently returned to his hand.

Their eyes met, and then Kaven gave him an almost imperceptible nod before turning and running.

"V?"

The imperial officer looked down, realized that he was more or less lying on Madeen, and immediately sat back on his heels. The new scar on his back was still burning, but his face felt warm as well.

"You could have had him," the bounty hunter said, sitting up.

He shook his head. "Too much cost. Um." At an uncharacteristic loss for words, Verdan got to his feet. Then his awkwardness faded as he saw where the Jedi was running. "He's headed for the ring of mountains. We can trap him in the valley there." He took out his comlink and addressed the troopers that still remained, instructing them to rendezvous at the temple.

Madeen lifted her hips and jumped right to her feet. "Right. Let's get going."

* * *

Talos was waiting just inside the temple, and when Kaven entered the Jedi Master pushed his travel bag into his hands and they went through the back exit, careful not to alert the priest.

Kaven didn't say anything as they made their way down the roots toward the valley proper, too disheartened by the thought of leaving to make much conversation. Talos was quiet as well, and they simply climbed downwards in silence.

The ring of mountains enclosed a plain that had become a massive crater at some time in the past, when a meteor had struck. There was a building in the centre of it, some huge one that could have been anything, in the human's eyes.

They leapt the last ten metres to the ground. The pilot had noted long before that Talos was not carrying anything with him, and had realized glumly that he was to strike out on his own. Of course Talos would not return to the Empire with him; his loyalties were to the Force and the Force alone.

A sudden wind blew his hair, and he looked up. An imperial shuttle had passed overhead, and was heading for the building complex.

"They'll try to catch us here," he murmured.

"They don't know the interior of the building. _I _do," his master replied. "You'll leave Feladorn safely."

"What about you? Even if you get me off safely, those troopers are going to see you as a Jedi anyway."

"Just trust me, Erril. I'm not made of glass." At Kaven's worried expression the Chiss added, "I won't harm them if it's avoidable. I intend to see you off and then leave before they manage to find their way to the landing pad."

"So there's a ship...?"

"Yes. I doubt your credit balance has improved since dealing with Mira the Hutt, and you're going to need transport."

"I...I don't know how I could ever thank you," Kaven stammered.

"I imagine you'll find a way. Perhaps you can convince your imperial friends not to conquer Feladorn once everything's settled."

"Well, I can certainly try," the pilot replied, as they ran down the slopes of the crater.

* * *

What was inside the ring of mountains was called the Valley of Fallen Stars, and the building complex was a very old temple that had been built as a sort of shrine to the great meteor that had fallen nearly a thousand years before. The shallow parts of the temple were still used by the Feladornians for certain festivals, though at this time of year it was locked up.

The two Jedi pried the door open and stepped inside. The antechamber was smallish, with a couple of short stairways leading to a second level just over their heads, and two corridors led off to the right and the left. The air smelled stale and close; the temple had not been opened for months. "Which way?" Kaven asked.

"This way." Talos nodded to the right, and they padded through a series of dark corridors before coming to a halt.

"Dead end."

"No, this is just where the public part of the temple ends." Talos reached out, hesitated, and then pushed a stone with his finger. There was a low rumble, and the wall slid aside. "The ship I'm giving you belonged to my master. When he brought me to Feladorn, it was at the time of the Jedi Purge. Secrecy was prudent, so he hid the ship. Even the Feladornians don't know it's here."

"But wouldn't they know about the secret passages? This is their temple."

"There's another secret area within the secret areas."

"Ahah! Very nice."

"Indeed. Now, just follow me..."

* * *

The troop of imperials had entered the temple not long after Kaven and Talos, and now stood in the anteroom looking about.

Lieutenant Verdan gazed at the honeycomb of alcoves and corridors, musing. "Now, why would they go into a temple..."

"Good setting for an ambush," Madeen commented, as the imperial officer instructed his men to be on guard for an attack from any angle.

"Sir! There are footprints leading this way." A Stormtrooper motioned toward two pairs of tracks with his rifle. They led off into a side corridor, faint disturbances in the dust.

Verdan nodded, and activated the recon droid they had brought with them. "Follow those footprints."

The little droid whizzed away, and the troop followed it through a labyrinth of halls to the end of a corridor. The tracks seemed to disappear into the wall. The lieutenant reached out and touched the stone with one gloved hand. It was solid. "Scan for fingerprints," he said. When the droid had finished, he reached out and pressed the stone that had a print on it. The wall slid open. "Ahah. Continue onwards, then."

* * *

"This is where it gets interesting," Talos said later. They stood in a wide rectangular room. There was a door-shaped rift in the wall before them that would obviously open, but a number of other rifts indicated that it might not be a good idea to try to force it open.

"Interesting, as in trapped?"

"Yes. One of these panels on the floor will open the door... and all of them will spring the trap. There are certain procedures to follow here." Talos stood considering the trap. His red eyes were narrowed as he looked from panel to panel, thinking back almost thirty years. "It's the middle panel," he murmured. "And then...wait until the gears finish, then follow something into the hangar."

He took off his cloak, and threw it onto the panel.

They watched the whirl of blades, saws, toxic darts, and arrows as the trap was sprung, and even the stoic Chiss winced once or twice at the thought of what would have happened had one of them stepped into it.

The cloak Talos had tossed lay in a burning heap. The two Jedi turned their heads as the rift in the wall slid open. A droid about the size of an astromech rolled out, and stopped at the edge of the fabric. It leaned its birdlike head forward, and a small panel on the end of its snout opened. A stream of clear liquid came out and fell with a splash onto the burning robe. The droid made a quiet _ptoo _noise as it discharged the liquid.

Kaven laughed as the droid turned and started back from whence it came. "Well, I don't know who made this trap, but...I think I'm in love with them," he said.

Talos sighed. "I admit, the contemptuous spit added a certain something. Now, we need to hurry past that droid. That trap is self-setting."

"Right!"

* * *

"Uh-oh, this doesn't look good," the bounty hunter said, hands on her hips as she surveyed the array of panels and rifts. "Obvious trap."

Lieutenant Verdan looked at the remains of a cloak, which was still smouldering, and understood what had happened here. They were close to catching them up. "I'm not sure how much weight is needed..." He reached up and removed his cap, then tossed it onto the cloak.

There was a quiet click, and a great deal of action followed. The imperial troops watched with growing disquiet as saw blades whirred, darts shot, spikes stabbed, and to top it off, a flamethrower hidden in the wall let out a blast of fire.

The door slid open, and a droid about a meter high rolled out and approached the burning remains of the cloak and cap. Lieutenant Verdan wasn't quite sure what to say at what it did next, which was apparently to gob on the fire.

"Hngh, hngh, hngh-sorry, sir," a trooper said, concealing his snickering with practiced grace as their officer shot him a Look. "There's a corridor past where the droid came out, sir."

Verdan had seen it. "We'll follow it. Avoid the panels." Before the droid could turn and depart, he cleared the flaming pile at a leap and ran through the doorway. The rest hastened to follow.

* * *

Kaven and Talos looked over their shoulders at the sound of stone grinding on stone, and the Chiss said, "They're fast. We don't have much time." He finished pulling the cover off the ship and stepped back.

"An Aethersprite," the pilot said, with some surprise. The small ship was grey, with a purplish trim. "A Jedi Starfighter!"

"Yes. Now, they're not capable of making hyperspace jumps on their own, but they use a hyperdrive booster ring, which you'll find in orbit." Talos crossed to a control panel and input something, at which point a compartment on the near wall of the hangar opened and an astromech droid rolled toward them. "You'll need this-this one is R4-P8. The R4 series is specially made for these ships." The droid took its place on a lift and Kaven watched as it was raised and set into place on the left side of the Aethersprite. "You'll find it a little more difficult to calibrate things if you use any other series of astromech."

The Chiss turned to him then with a sigh. "I do wish we could have finished your training. I suspect that you're in for a great deal of trouble before things settle down."

"I'll see you again, won't I...?"

"Perhaps, but I'm not certain."

Kaven put his bag in the ship and paused a moment with his hands on it and his head bowed. "You didn't know me, but you took me in for training, and you taught me so much," he said quietly. "I trust you, and that means a lot to me." He turned to him. "Talos, I'd like to...count you as a friend, if you'd have me."

The Jedi Master smiled and took his hand. "I would. And I hope you have the chance to return to Feladorn someday as a full Jedi." There was the muffled sound of voices from down the hall. The imperials were nearly upon them. Talos pressed a button and the roof opened smoothly, revealing a clear blue sky.

Kaven climbed into the ship and donned the headset. He looked down at his master, not wanting to leave and knowing that he had to, and held up a hand. "May the Force be with you, Master."

"And with you, Erril." The canopy lowered, and Talos watched as the ship rose. "Carry the Force with you, always..."

The Jedi turned his head. He could hear the Stormtroopers by now. "And now, I had better get out of here," he said.

* * *

Lieutenant Verdan, Madeen, and the Stormtroopers entered in time to see a twinkle in the sky as the pilot blasted off.

Madeen walked over to the landing pad and said, in a conversational tone, a few choice words in her own language.

The imperial officer felt a subtle breeze pass by him as he came out of the shadows of the corridor to stand at the bounty hunter's side. "This will be the last time he escapes us," he said. "Jedi or not."

* * *

**Author's Note:** The assassin droids were originally written as HK-series, so now you know why they talk like them. The TKs (Target Killer) were probably based off of the Hunter-Killer droids, for an in-universe explanation.


	10. Chapter 9: In the Eye of the Dark Side

**Chapter 9:**

**Under the Eye of the Dark Side**

_Tel Sharis. A sweltering jungle planet on the Outer Rim, currently under Imperial control._

The night was hot and suffocating, thick with the calls of Tel Sharis' insect life. Listening to the chirps and clicks around him, Jan Kaven walked across the grounds of the imperial base, his boots rasping softly in the grass. The base was well lit, and Stormtroopers patrolled every corner of the grounds.

The last few months had been uneventful for those stationed on the jungle planet, though Jan was sure that Commander Dias had something in mind for the future that would end that relative peace.

He caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Nalian talking to an engineer over by the supply shed, and continued on. Without making a sound he stepped into the trees at the very edge of the encampment, moving toward a place where he could make a private transmission.

He stopped in the middle of a sheltered clearing only six feet across, and reached into his tunic. There was a rustle in the trees, and he froze.

Feeling a presence coming closer, he turned all around, looking for any sign of someone or something, and when someone suddenly grabbed his wrists and pinned them behind his back, he let out a cry that was severely muffled by the gloved hand over his mouth.

For a moment he thought that a rebel spy had grabbed him, and then realized the truth as the entity leaned down and whispered, "I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me."

Jan's heart skipped a beat.

"That wasn't very nice of you out on the plateau," Maldict continued. He was close, far too close. "But I might still be willing to forgive you."

"_Mmph!_"

Maldict's hand came away from his mouth, and his fingers trailed along his jawline. Jan took a deep breath.

"Scream if you want," the commander said conversationally, "but it won't do anything. You're mine, Lieutenant, and _I _am in command now, not Dias."

"But you died almost six months ago," Jan moaned.

He felt Maldict's chest shake a little as the man laughed. "Died six months ago? No. Wishful thinking on your part, perhaps, but you shoved me down the ravine only two days ago."

"T-two days..."

"Yes. And now..." Maldict leaned down again, until his lips brushed his aide's neck. "I think you owe me a few...favours."

* * *

Jan's eyes shot open and he took in a breath, looking around him in a panic. As the disorientation faded he saw that he was in his own quarters, and he fell back onto the pillow with a sigh. He was here in his own bunk, alone and quite safe.

Since the commander's disappearance he had had more than a few troubling dreams about being in Maldict's arms. It was silly to even consider that the man might still be alive; it had been months since his disappearance, and Jan knew, logically, that he was dead. Yet he had not seen him die, nor had there been a body, and the ghost of uncertainty still nibbled at the back of his mind.

It was stupid. He knew that Maldict was dead. He _knew _it.

Jan sat up, running his fingers through his dark hair, and rested his elbows on his knees.

It hadn't been long after they had met that he had started feeling uncomfortable around Maldict, but back then he hadn't known why. He had supposed that the commander had been something like evil, which may or may not have been true, but their conversation on the plateau had revealed the true reason he made Jan squirm. The young lieutenant had always been good at guessing beings' emotions, and Maldict's thoughts toward him had been quite sexual.

_He's dead, _Jan told himself firmly. _He's dead and he's not coming back to life and the only place I'll ever see him is in my dreams._

The velvet darkness of the room was stifling. He rose and began to dress, feeling like he badly needed some air, and then left.

The base was alive at all hours, and he passed several pairs of Stormtroopers on guard duty as he went outside. It was muggy outside, but it was an improvement from his own room, and he went around the left side of the building, where the gentle breeze would reach him, and leaned against a stack of heavy supply crates. There were several rows of these, all prepared to be loaded onto an imperial cargo ship and taken away in the morning.

_Erril, _he thought, _how long are you going to be away? It's been months. Are you all right? I know you're alive, but you could be in a holding cell somewhere. What kind of training is going to let you get past Thule?_

_...Why can't you tell me anything?_

A tiny movement in the trees caught his eye and he straightened. "Trooper," he said.

The pair of Stormtroopers that had been walking by came to a halt. "Yes, sir?"

"Did you see something pass by just now?"

"No, sir."

"Look again."

The troopers looked carefully around them. "There's nothing there, sir."

"Use your scanner," said Jan, who was getting more and more of a bad feeling as time passed. "There's something here. I'm sure of it."

The trooper raised a hand to his helmet, turning a slow 360 as he checked for life-form readings. After a moment's silence he said, "Whatever it was, sir, it's gone now."

Jan reached for his blaster. "No," he said. "It's not."

"But the scanner-"

"Check the area, both of you," the imperial officer ordered. "There could be a rebel spy here. If he surrenders, take him prisoner. If he resists, shoot him. Set to stun."

"...Yes, sir." The Stormtroopers turned and stepped out of the cover of the crates. Jan remained where he was, looking at the tree line through narrowed eyes, trying to see the presence he felt. Seconds passed in silence.

Then there was a soft sound, and a muffled thud followed. The lieutenant stepped out from behind the crates with his pistol up, but there was nothing there. He didn't lower the weapon, but kept it at shoulder height as he moved around the crates. Catching a glimpse of a Stormtrooper, Jan turned away and glanced back around, weapon at the ready.

He froze at a noise that sounded like a grunt followed by soft rain, and turned.

There was a man with black hair standing there, at the side of another stack of crates. The dead Stormtrooper lay at his feet, and a bloodied vibroblade was in his hand. He had begun to reach a hand down toward the fallen trooper, and there were two _things _coming out of his face, like thin tendrils, and Jan thought: _Anzati. He's an Anzati assassin._

On reflex his arms came up and he fired. The alien jerked out of the way of the shot, disappearing around the side of the crates.

Jan cursed and started after him, in shock from seeing an Anzati here on Tel Sharis. They sucked people's brains out, they called it the soup of memory, they did it with those things on their faces-

There was a streak of metal, and Jan's pistol was knocked from his hand with a stinging blow, and suddenly the Anzati's face was inches from his own. His back hit the crates. The man's vibroblade was a centimetre from his throat, and he kept the officer pinned against the wall of metal. Anzat was a cool world; Tel Sharis was far too hot for them, and beads of sweat stood out on the assassin's face as he leaned closer. The tendrils on his face reached out.

_He's going to suck my brains out! My brains! With _those _things!_

Something rolled up inside of him, and he exclaimed, with more conviction than ever in his life, "_**Stop!**_"

To his surprise the Anzati hesitated, pulling away a little and blinking. Suddenly he seemed to leap sideways, and something wet hit Jan in the face. The officer blinked, and saw that the assassin now lay on the ground, bleeding profusely from a blow on the head.

He looked up and saw Lieutenant Nalian, in her grey singlet and with dishevelled hair, gripping a pipe in her gloved hands. It was raised, probably in case the assassin got up again. It didn't look like he ever would.

"Er...it was the nearest weapon on hand," she said, mistaking his shell-shocked look for astonishment at the fact that she had just laid out an Anzati assassin with a pipe. "And I got blood on you. Sorry."

Jan's paralysis broke, and he wiped at his cheek with the back of one hand. It came away red. "Sound the alarms! There are Anzati on the base and they've killed two troopers already! At least!"

With the young man covering her, Nalian ran to the nearest alarm and pulled it. Within moments Stormtroopers were pouring out of the barracks with their rifles at the ready, and the two lieutenants turned to see Commander Dias and a captain heading their way.

"Why is there blood on you?" Dias demanded, once they had closed with the pair.

"Anzati assassin, sir. It's his blood," Jan replied, pointing to where the body of the assassin lay. The commander followed his gaze, and his eyebrows lifted at the sight. "He killed two of the Stormtroopers."

"I want this entire base searched from top to bottom," the commander told the captain at his side, "Any intruders are to be shot on sight." The officer nodded and took off, shouting orders to those around him. Dias turned to another officer. "Double the guard, inside and out. Send the Viper droids out to check the jungle."

Then he looked back to Jan and Nalian. "It was lucky for you two to have spotted that Anzati," he said. "Or was it more than just luck?"

"I...just had a bad feeling, sir," Jan replied.

"I spotted him in time to give Lieutenant Kaven a hand, sir," Nalian replied.

"Hmm. I see." Dias rubbed his chin with a gloved hand. "Kaven, go wash up. Nalian, go get dressed, and then join your men on perimeter watch, the both of you. Hopefully this will be the last incident of the night."

"Yes, sir," they said together.

* * *

It had been the last incident of the night. No one else was killed. None of the Stormtroopers reported seeing anything, and neither the officers nor the droids nor the security cameras picked up on anything. That man had, by appearances, been the only Anzati on Tel Sharis.

Nobody on the base knew exactly why two Anzati had been there in the first place, in a manner of speaking; their goal had obviously been assassination, but who their intended target had been was the question. Rumours passed between the personnel as to who it could have been; _this _Stormtrooper owed someone a lot of money he hadn't paid up, or _that _officer's liaisons with a certain governor's wife hadn't gone unnoticed, or a wealth of other potentials. It seemed that Jan was thought of as an innocent, since he hadn't heard any rumours that _he _had been the target, though through the next day he often saw a thoughtful look on Commander Dias' face as they went about their duties.

That evening he was in his quarters when his brother contacted him. When he felt the tiny vibration, he could have wept with relief. He drew the holoprojector from his pocket and turned it on. It did him a lot of good to see Erril's tiny holographic form.

"Erril...oh, Erril. You're all right."

Erril nodded. "Yes. It's good to see that you're well, Jan. I'd worried about you."

"Are you done your 'training'?" Jan asked. "Are you coming back to the Empire now?" His hopes ground to a halt when he saw the look on his older brother's face, and then he said, "No...not yet."

"I'm sorry, Jan, but I'm not ready yet." The pilot bowed his head, running a hand through his hair. "I never got to finish my training properly. I'll come back, but there's a lot that I need to do before then."

Jan gazed at his sibling. Erril had changed somehow, he was sure of it; there was something in his stance and his expression, a certain thoughtfulness that hadn't been there before, or a new awareness, maybe. "There's something different about you now..."

Erril paused, and then offered him a lopsided grin. "I imagine it's the vacation time. Instead of having rebels trying to kill me, I've got bounty hunters. Well, a change is as good as a rest, they say, so-"

Jan's strained temper snapped. "_Why do you always have to be so damn sarcastic!_"

His brother's mouth shut with a clack.

"_Why, _Erril? You didn't used to be like this!" he continued. "The Battle of Yavin's long finished, so why don't you just stop covering everything up and say what you _mean _for once instead of pretending that everything's-bloody-_peachy?_"

"Jan, I, I didn't know that it bothered you so much..."

"Not normally, but right now I've had enough! Not now, _not _with everything else happening!"

"Whoa, slow down, what's-"

"I'll _tell _you what!" his brother snapped. "How about a traitor in the Empire, framing _my _brother and sending him out dodging who-knows-what while half the galaxy's trying to kill him and I'm stuck here going out of my _mind _with worry because even pilots' luck doesn't last forever and he could get killed at any moment, and I've only got one brother left!" Erril opened his mouth again, but Jan cut him off. "Oh, or how about getting assigned as aide to that traitor's very _co-conspirator, _my _commanding officer, _who was making sure I couldn't do a damn thing about it and who, just as a bonus, was about to _rape _me before a flash of luck hit _me _for once!"

"_What! I'll strangle that son of a-_"

"Or how about not being able to find out anything about my brother's case, because I don't know who's an enemy and who's not? And not hearing from my brother and having just hope to live on? Or an Anzati assassin? Or the fact that Thule wants me dead too, because he thinks I might know something about this? I worry about you, Erril, don't you know that? You didn't used to be so self-destructive. It, it's like you want to-to-but how could anyone _want _to die? I don't know how...but I might...if you did."

"Oh, Jan, don't say that."

"So, just...please. Tell me the truth."

Erril was biting his lip, obviously fighting with himself. "The truth is, I've been on an isolated planet for six months," he said, eventually. "I can't tell you what I am-but it's much more than what I used to be, and right now I can't let the Empire have me, because it might turn me into something I don't want. I can't come back yet, because if I do, something terrible is going to happen. It's not alright, Jan-I'm by myself and I don't know who I can go to for help. But I can't give up, because right now that's worse than dying, do you understand? I _will _come back, but first I must do what needs to be done."

"I _don't _understand," Jan said, his face drawn. "But I trust you, and I _really _hope that you know what you're doing. Be safe, Erril."

"May the-" His brother halted, and then just held up a hand. "Take care of yourself, Jan."

His image disappeared.

Jan sat back on his bed, a ball of ice forming in his stomach. _Erril, _he thought, _just what kind of training did you have?_

* * *

Kaven shut the holoprojector off and put it back into his jacket pocket, unable to stop himself growling softly as he did so.

_Thule _will _pay for this, _he thought, anger bubbling up from some hidden reservoir, and with hardly a thought he raised a hand and clamped down on the nearest available item, a metal cup, and crushed it with the Force. What he felt was not quite the hot fury that he directed at the rebellion, but a hard, cold determination, and he knew at once what his next orders were.

He had changed into civilian clothing to talk to Jan, but now he changed back into the dark brown robes and tan tunic of a Jedi. With plans beginning to form in his mind, he rose and looked out over the darkened cityscape of Nar Shaddaa. At last he extended a hand and pulled his lightsaber into it, attaching it to his belt as he left the hotel room.

It was time to go see Mira the Hutt.

* * *

"The great Mira says that you've become quite the young Jedi since we saw you last," the Twi'lek translator said. "She is pleased to do business with you again."

It was an hour later, and Kaven stood in the back room of the Frozen Nebula with his hands tucked in his robes. He bowed slightly at the waist.

"I have need of the great Mira's resources again," he said. "I can offer credits. There are two things that I want to know. First, I want to know where Admiral Makar's fleet is located at this time."

"Easy enough," the Hutt said, through her interpreter.

"And second," the Jedi continued, "There's a certain alien that I'd like to meet with..."

* * *

The pilot's home fleet was stationed over Ammergau, and he made a ostensibly furtive entry by the military base located there, making sure that he was seen. Half a dozen Stormtroopers were consequently waiting for him when he landed.

"Erril Kaven," said the Stormtrooper sergeant, as the canopy rose, "You are under arrest."

Kaven disembarked and turned to face them with his hands up. "And I surrender, Sergeant. But first, you _must _listen to me..."

* * *

Lieutenant Bryn Shar crouched at the side of a _Lambda_-class shuttle with a clear mask over her face, sparks flying as she repaired a series of small laser scars on the port side. At a movement on her right she looked over, and immediately stood up straight when she saw what was heading her way.

Six Stormtroopers were marching toward the shuttle, with Erril Kaven between them. The ex-officer was handcuffed, and he looked unnerved at the soldiers around him. They stopped, and Bryn removed her visor and lowered the ramp.

"Erril Kaven," she said, putting her hands on her hips as the boarding ramp swung down, "And here I was starting to think you'd gotten away for good."

Kaven looked over at her, gave her a quick once-over, and his lips thinned. He looked pale and, she saw, now that he was closer, actually quite scared instead of just unnerved at being captured by Stormtroopers. He didn't say anything, though, and just looked at his feet.

Bryn found herself a little disquieted by the reaction. It wasn't like the pilot to be so...submissive, and she was pretty sure that he wasn't acting, either. He seemed more like some hapless civilian brought into imperial custody.

"All right, get in," she said, her enjoyment of the situation vanishing, "I'll take you to the _Imperial Dawn_."

* * *

The flight was short and silent, and as they approached the looming form of their fleet's flagship, the radio crackled.

"_Lambda-Six, you are making an unplanned flight. State your business._"

Bryn's reply was short and to the point. "We've picked up a prisoner. Erril Kaven, former TIE pilot."

There was a moment's silence, and then the reply came. "_You have clearance to land. Proceed to flight deck A, first hangar._"

"Roger that."

The pilot's eyes shifted to where Kaven sat in the passengers' compartment, flanked by two Stormtroopers. The man avoided her eye and said nothing, just looking at his feet.

So submissive. No spirit, no cheekiness. In fact, if he hadn't looked exactly like him, the lieutenant would have said that it wasn't Erril Kaven at all.

They landed. "You may disembark," she said.

* * *

Captain Thule was waiting for them, flanked by Stormtroopers, as they came down the ramp. He was smiling slightly, a sure sign that someone was in for it in the near future, and when the troop came to a halt he strode forward.

"At last we have our traitor back," he said. He was tall and narrow, with blonde hair and a smooth, pointed face; a snake in human form. "You've had your fun long enough."

Then his hand snapped out, catching Kaven beneath the chin and tilting his face upwards so that he was looking the imperial officer in the eye.

It was Erril Kaven, to the very detail. The cocky arch of his eyebrows, the straight lines of his cheekbones. The captain had expected some impertinence, but the pilot seemed genuinely frightened by his presence. Thule turned his face this way and that, examining him critically. At last he nodded and stepped back. "Everything appears to be in order."

"Shall I take him to the detention, sir?" the Stormtrooper on Kaven's right asked.

"Yes. He can cool his heels there for the time being. I will question him myself-no one is to enter his cell but me."

Thule turned on his heel and walked away, his gloved hands interlaced behind his back. The Stormtrooper who had spoken nudged Kaven in the small of his back with the muzzle of his rifle. "You heard him," he said roughly, "Now _move, _you rebel scum."

* * *

Lieutenant Shar watched as the troopers dispersed, and as two marched off with Kaven in front of them.

_I've got a bad feeling about this, _she thought, shaking her head. There was something terribly off about this situation, and she felt like she was missing some vital piece of the puzzle, like there was something that she hadn't noticed.

She turned back to the ship. She could finish the repairs here.

Later on, as always in the spirit of such things, she would twig to the fact that one of the Stormtroopers had been wearing a lightsaber at his belt.

* * *

Admiral Makar was sitting at his desk when the door to his office opened and a lieutenant all but ran in. The young man came to an abrupt halt, radiating nervous keenness. "Admiral Makar, sir!"

The admiral looked up. He was an older man, in his early sixties, with grey hair and bushy eyebrows, and a paternal, non-regulation moustache. "There's no need to shout, Lieutenant...Fell," he said, dredging up the new recruit's name from a long mental list. "You're an imperial officer, not the town crier. Now what is it?"

Lieutenant Fell blushed. "We've taken Erril Kaven prisoner, Admiral," he said, in a quieter voice. "He's on board right now. They've just taken him to detention."

The old officer stood up. "What! Finally-which cell?"

"1138, sir. But Captain Thule has ordered that no one is to see him until _he _does, sir."

Admiral Makar reached for the cane at his side. His right leg had been badly broken years before in a shuttle crash and he walked with a cane these days, but it in no way made him appear fragile. Instead it added to his grandfatherly appearance. "If Thule thinks he can order me around in my own fleet, he's got another thing coming," he said. "I'm the damn admiral. Lead on, Lieutenant."

* * *

Elsewhere, one of the Stormtroopers that had escorted the pilot aboard stepped into the elevator.

_All right, _he thought, as the doors closed behind him and the car began to ascend, _It's time to release the prisoner. _His eyes closed. _Release...the prisoner..._

* * *

The Stormtroopers outside the cell straightened when they saw the two officers coming. "Admiral Makar," one said. "Captain Thule has ordered-"

"Yes, I am aware. But I am now overriding his order. Let me in."

The troopers stepped aside.

The pilot was sitting on the bunk inside, and he looked up as the officer entered. "At last," said the admiral. "I've had men looking up and down this galaxy for you. And now I have you back. Finally."

Kaven looked at him with terror in his eyes. Makar held up a hand. "Erril," he said gently, "I have no intention of harming you. But you must tell me all that's happened." He took a step closer, and the pilot shrank back, even putting one hand on the wall like a child approached by a monster. The admiral was shocked at this; the young man had always trusted him before, and now he was looking up at him as though he were a stranger about to torture him in cold blood. "Erril," he said again, in the same gentle tone, "I've always considered you almost like a grandchild. You know that."

"But I want you to talk to me," he added firmly, "There's something afoot here and you can clear it up just by telling me what has been happening to you since Kuan. Your father contacted me not long ago-he and several others will vouch for you. But you must talk."

Kaven stopped shaking and blinked a few times. "Ah," he began, and pitched forward.

"Erril!" When the pilot didn't answer, the admiral knelt and turned him over. With black realization rising, the officer put his fingers to Kaven's throat. "This can't be!" he exclaimed a moment later.

The door hissed open and Lieutenant Fell looked in with alarm. "Sir? Is something wrong?"

"He's dead!"

The young man looked to the apparent corpse, alarm turning to shock. "_What?_ But he was-"

Then they both saw it happen.

The body shifted, facial features twitching and blurring as they changed form. The face widened and flattened, becoming reptilian and scaly, while the body changed from Kaven's lithe form into something shorter and stockier.

"-a Clawdite!" the lieutenant finished, his eyes wide.

Admiral Makar rose so fast he nearly knocked the young officer's cap off. "Then where's the _real _Kaven?"

* * *

It was better than hearing news that Kaven was dead, Thule thought as he entered his office. This way, he would be able to witness the pilot's death firsthand. After this nuisance was done with, he could go ahead with his original plans and defect. He had no particular loyalties to the Republic, but they were frankly the ones dominating the game at the moment, and Thule had always preferred to be on the winning team.

He would let Kaven stew in his cell for a while. There were things to do in the meantime.

The officer went over to the small drinks cabinet he kept and took out a glass. He didn't imbibe much, but this was a special occasion.

He had just lifted the decanter when a voice said, "Celebratory drink, Captain?"

"Get out," he said, without turning.

"I'm afraid not, Thule. Not when you're the man I wanted to see." The voice was cocky, self-assured, cheeky. A pilot's voice.

Thule set the decanter down and turned, smiling in a slightly predatory way when he saw who it was. "Erril Kaven," he said. "What a surprise."

Kaven was sitting comfortably on the couch across from him with his arms resting on the back and his legs crossed. A Stormtrooper's helmet was sitting beside him, and he was dressed accordingly. He had changed since Kuan, something in the set of his face especially, but that was not all. There was a new confidence in his posture, one that was genuine and not just the overstuffed pride of an ace pilot. Thule could see no reason for it. Kaven was surrounded by enemies and even Admiral Makar could not save him now.

"An interesting trick," Thule continued. "I'm impressed. What did you use-a shape-shifter? A holodroid, perhaps-though that's an expensive trick for a pilot. Perhaps you can tell me more when you're rotting in your jail cell."

The captain had been reaching for the call button on his desk, but now he felt as though something had grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"That's a very bad idea, Captain," said Kaven. He had lifted two fingers. "Don't try it again."

The pressure eased, and Thule's arm was released. "Do you intend to assassinate me in my office like a common thug?" the officer asked, unruffled.

"If I have to. But I imagine we could talk this out." The pilot gave him a brief, wintry smile.

"Hmm, yes. Of course we can." Thule sat down behind his desk, crossing his long legs and folding his hands in his lap. From Kaven's angle, the captain's hands were unseen. He slowly began to reach for the blaster under the desk.

"You have an accomplice in this," the pilot said. Thule's hand stopped. "Commander Maldict. I don't know what your motivations are for this,but I will see to it that both of you are suitably punished. Are you aware of what Maldict's intentions toward my brother were?"

"Enlighten me."

Kaven did.

The captain raised an eyebrow. "Oh, my. But it's not entirely surprising." Kaven didn't seem to realize that Maldict was dead. Just to deflate that grating arrogance of his, Thule added, "Well, I do hope they're happy together."

It worked. Kaven's eyes went wide and he leapt to his feet. "_You son of a-_"

Thule pulled the blaster out and shot at him, pressing the call button with his other hand. To his shock the blaster bolt came careening back at him and hit the decanter at his elbow, shattering it. The liquid caught fire from the heat of the bolt. When he looked back to Kaven a second later, he saw exactly why the shot had come back.

The pilot was holding a lightsaber in his hands. A _lightsaber._

"Jedi!" he gasped, jumping to his feet and backing away as the ex-officer approached him with murder in his eyes. "There's a Jedi in here! I want backup, _now!_"

He fired again, and Kaven deflected the shot. Thule tried a third time, and the pilot deflected, his face grim. The captain backed away toward the door, holding the blaster before him protectively, opened it, and ducked out before the Jedi could cleave him through.

Kaven ran to the door, and found it locked from the outside. In the corridor he could hear Thule's voice, instructing the Stormtroopers he had summoned to shoot the Jedi down. The Force was active here; there were at least a dozen troopers.

Taking a few steps back, the young man put his hands together and began to concentrate, pulling together enough force to blow the door open.

From the hall there was a cry of, "All right, men, don't let him get away!"

The door opened just as Kaven let loose with the Force, and to the Stormtroopers in the corridor it was like being hit with a solid wall. The blast took down everyone in the hall, and as Kaven ran out of Thule's office he could still see personnel being blown off their feet.

He knew that what he was doing strayed dangerously close to the dark side in its sheer aggression, but that one crack had gotten to him. Leaping over the prone bodies of the Stormtroopers, he bounded after Thule with his lightsaber flashing.

* * *

It was mere moments after the concussive blast in the hall that Admiral Makar and Lieutenant Fell arrived. The lieutenant took one look at the sprawled bodies there and blanched, and the admiral groaned.

"This...this is what Jedi can do!"

Admiral Makar passed a hand over his face. "Damn it, this is not how it's supposed to be," he said to himself.

A Stormtrooper groaned, attracting the attention of the officers. The old man saw that they were still alive, though several had been injured. "Call for stretchers," he ordered Fell. "I want these men taken to the medical bay immediately."

_Erril, _he thought, as he started down the hall as quickly as his game leg would allow, _Was I wrong about you? Have you really joined with the Republic?_

* * *

Thule came to a skidding halt in the hangar, just before the shuttle that stood docked there. _What am I thinking? It's suicide to try to outfly him!_

The imperial officer turned to go, but found Kaven standing in the doorway. "Not so fast, Captain," the pilot said, and slashed the door controls with his lightsaber, sealing them in together. His stolen Stormtrooper's armour was riddled with pock-marks, a hint of how difficult it had been for him to follow the older man.

Thule backed away as the Jedi approached. "You're making a grievous mistake," he said. "If you kill me, then you _will _be a traitor to the Empire."

"_You're the traitor to the Empire!_" Kaven shouted at him. "_As far as it's concerned, I'm doing it a favour!_"

In the heat of the moment he hadn't noticed the booted feet coming down the ramp of the _Lambda_-class shuttle docked in the hangar, and he was upon Thule within a second, slicing his blaster in half and seizing the collar of his uniform with his free hand.

The captain didn't make a sound as the lightsaber blade pierced his chest, emerging just beneath his left shoulder blade, and merely gripped Kaven's shoulders with a look of silent astonishment.

The blade retracted. Thule fell to the floor.

Ashamed at how easily the dark side had taken hold of him, Kaven ran a hand through his hair. Then his gaze moved up, and he saw Bryn Shar standing by the shuttle, staring at him with wide eyes.

* * *

"Admiral, you have a message from Lieutenant Verdan," a captain informed the old man as he moved through the com centre.

"I don't have time for this," the officer replied.

"He says it's very, very important, sir. About Erril Kaven."

Makar could have laughed at that. "Put him through, then," he said, coming to a halt. "And let's hope it's something more useful than 'He's a Jedi.'"

The holoprojector came to life, bearing the ghostlike image of the lieutenant, who was accompanied by an athletic-looking Twi'lek, apparently the bounty hunter he'd been working with. Verdan bowed. "Admiral, we've just gotten into range," he said. "We attempted to apprehend Erril Kaven on Feladorn, but he escaped."

"Oh, yes, I am well aware of that," the admiral retorted. "He's currently running amok on this ship!"

To his credit, Verdan recovered from his shock quickly. "He must be after Captain Thule, sir-"

"Why Thule?"

"-in our investigations, we found that Kaven really hadn't been working with the Republic, and that he had been framed by a third party, sir, who had hired assassin droids to stop him returning to the Empire. Kaven claimed that it was Thule, but would not come back with us."

Admiral Makar rubbed his chin. "What was he doing on Feladorn?"

"Jedi training, sir." Verdan took a breath. "When the assassin droids attacked, Kaven was protecting us, and in all of our investigations, he hasn't been credited with even one imperial casualty."

Relief flooded through the admiral, and he turned to the captain at his side. "I want this order issued immediately, Captain-to all personnel aboard this ship: Erril Kaven is not to be killed. All blasters are to be set to stun. Take him prisoner only."

The captain nodded and took off. Makar turned back to Verdan. "Let's hope your transmission has come in time, Lieutenant. Return to your troops and await further orders from General Kordis."

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Verdan nodded, and faded out.

Admiral Makar sighed. "Thule, you have got a lot to answer for," he said to himself, cane tapping on the floor as he left the room.

* * *

"B-Bryn..."

"_You killed him!_"

"Bryn, listen to me-"

They were circling each other now. The lieutenant hadn't drawn her blaster, but she was close to it. "And here I was enough of an idiot to start thinking that maybe you _hadn't _been a traitor after all!" she exclaimed. "But now I see-you're a Jedi, and you've been working with the Republic all these past months, haven't you!"

"No, I'm not! I mean, I _am _a Jedi, but I'm not part of the Republic!"

"But you _killed _the _captain!_ You snuck on board and assassinated him!" Now the female pilot was edging toward a long wooden box that was resting with a pile of supply crates from their last stop. "And there _are _no imperial Jedi, you stuck-up scruffy nerf-herder, the only Jedi are with the _Republic, _so quit lying and admit it!"

Kaven realized what was in the box the second her elbow came down on it, hard enough to break it open. One of the other officers on board was a collector of weapons from across the galaxy, and he saw that he had just expanded his collection as she drew something from the box.

It was a curved sword. She held it in both hands and faced him, lips thin.

"You don't want to do this," he said.

"_You _don't want to do this," she said, and swung.

His lightsaber blade was out within a second, and he blocked the blow. To his surprise, his blade shorted out. "Wh-cortosis?"

"Oh, good," Bryn said, apparently as surprised as he was. "Your lightsaber's useless for the next few minutes. Give up, Erril!"

"No, _you _give up," he retorted, backtracking as she came at him, swinging wildly. "Damn it, Bryn, I know you want to throw me to the Wookiees, but can't you listen for five minutes?"

"Talk," she said, swinging, "I'll listen."

"Look, Thule-" he ducked, and the blade passed overhead, "-was not a nice man. He was planning on defecting."

"Yeah? So why didn't he just take off like the other defectors?"

"We both know he would have had things prepared beforehand. He had to have been establishing something, maybe trust or whatnot, briefly acting as double agent, before he left." Kaven leapt back, and lifted a crate threateningly with the Force. Bryn stopped and eyed it warily, decided that the pilot didn't have the heart to do it, and came forward again. His bluff called, the Jedi dropped the crate and leapt up onto a stack of others, pointing at her. "When I got captured on Kuan, it coincided with one of his gambits, so he framed me for giving out the information and defecting to the Alliance."

She drew her sidearm and took a shot at him. He leapt from the pile and tore the weapon from her hand using the Force, sending it skittering across the floor.

"I found out along the way that I could use the Force. The Republic thinks I'm a Dark Jedi, and the Empire thinks I'm a traitor. I went and took Jedi training with a nonpartisan teacher just so I could last five minutes alone in the galaxy." The young woman came at him again and slashed downwards, and Kaven leapt back, feeling something snag. He chanced a quick look downwards, then back to her. His Stormtrooper belt had been cut through. "Oh, Bryn. If you wanted to get me out of my pants, you could have just asked," he murmured, tossing it away.

Lieutenant Shar glared at him.

"But, really. I wouldn't betray the Empire," he continued, taking advantage of the lull in the action. "Surely you understand that."

She tapped her foot, considering him through narrowed eyes. "How'd you get on board?" she asked, finally. "You were dressed like a Stormtrooper the whole time, so obviously you used some cheap Jedi trick on the other troopers. So what did you do to get here?"

Kaven hesitated. Mind-controlling the Clawdite and using it as a decoy had been ruthless and even cruel of him, if pragmatic, and he wasn't certain that the alien had survived the affair or not. Thule hadn't ordered it killed right off, so it might still be all right. "I got a shape-shifter to take my place," he said at last, aware that Talos would be furious with him if he had known of this.

"Apparently the shape-shifter dropped dead in its cell," Bryn pointed out, and Kaven's expression turned to horror. "You poisoned it? That's not very Jedi-like."

"N-no...I didn't..." He had only crushed its mind with the Force and imposed his will on it, using it like a puppet before discarding it. These were not the actions of a Jedi at all, but something quite different.

He halted, the realization making his blood run cold, and then they both looked over at an explosion.

Stormtroopers had blasted the door to the hangar open, and were advancing with their blaster rifles held high. Before they could fire Kaven yanked the sword from Lieutenant Shar's hand with a twitch of the Force and pulled her to him, like a hostage. "Don't move," he whispered.

"You bastard." She wriggled, but found that Kaven was a lot stronger than he had been before. Whatever he had been doing all this time, he had become quite toned.

Admiral Makar emerged from the smoke, surrounded on all sides by troopers. He looked to where Thule lay motionless, then back to the Jedi. "Erril, I've given the order that you are not to be harmed," the old man said. "Now let her go, and we'll talk about this."

Kaven didn't say anything.

"I've received Lieutenant Verdan's report," the imperial officer continued, "and he is willing to vouch for your loyalty to the Empire. It's time for you to return to us."

The pilot shook his head, looking pained. "I can't," he said softly. "I can't. I'm not ready."

"I understand that you've only been learning the ways of the Force for a short time. But, listen to me, Erril, with us you can complete your training."

_As a Dark Jedi? _Kaven wondered, with a sinking feeling. _Is this what you wanted for me, Admiral?_

He took a step back toward the shuttle, taking Bryn with him. He didn't know how he ought to be feeling, and now stories of the Empire's evil didn't seem so much like stories anymore, not right now, not when this-this _grandfatherly _man was standing there and telling him that he could be trained as a Dark Jedi.

An image passed behind his eyes. Flame. Blood. Stormtroopers. He, the Sith Lord.

Darth...what, exactly?

He took another step back, and whispered to Bryn, "Just run back to them." He let her go, and then dove for the shuttle, running up the ramp amid shots from the Stormtroopers. He shut and started the ship, listening to the blaster shots outside, and as he swept out of the hangar he saw the admiral gesturing to several officers, shouting commands.

He bent over the controls, laughing softly. He had to, otherwise he would be sobbing instead.

_Is there anywhere in this galaxy that I fit in? _he wondered. _Anywhere at all?_

* * *

"Awaiting your orders, sir," an officer said, at the admiral's elbow.

Admiral Makar watched the shuttle begin its arc downward, and knew that the man really meant: _Do we shoot him down or not? Your call. _He sighed. "Let him go."

"I will relay the command."

The Stormtroopers filtered out, with Bryn Shar among them, and the lieutenant looked over her shoulder at the stout form of the admiral as she left.

The old man watched the landing craft disappear into the atmosphere of Ammergau, and after a moment of silence brought his cane down across a crate with a bang.

"_Damn!_" he growled.

* * *

"Come in, Lieutenant," Dias called from within, when Jan knocked.

"You...wanted to see me, Commander?" his aide asked. Dias nodded toward a chair, and as Jan sat down he folded his hands on the desk.

"There's nothing to worry about, Kaven," the imperial officer said, at the young man's concerned expression. "I only mean to bring something to your attention." He rose and turned, bringing up an image of the galaxy on the terminal behind him. It zoomed in on the sector they now occupied, and Jan could see Tel Sharis and the other planets located within its solar system. "The Tel Sharis campaign is going well...very well. All of the planets in this system are now aligned with the Empire. We have a solid foothold on this part of the Outer Rim."

He turned back to Jan. His cap was off, revealing a thick head of prematurely grey hair. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Lieutenant?"

Jan nodded. "I think so, sir-if you mean that it's time to set our sights on the next target."

"Yes. Within the next two standard months, we will be preparing to advance on Sonalia. It's under Republic rule, and it will not be an easy target. When we leave Tel Sharis, you'll be reassigned to your usual post as an army officer." At Jan's raised eyebrow the older man continued, "You've made a good aide, Kaven, but the field is where you excel, and when the time comes to attack Sonalia, you ought to be with your men."

"Thank you, sir. Er, if I might say so, isn't Sonalia setting our sights high for the size of our detachment?"

"Alone, yes. But we will be joined by General Kordis and his troops. The result should be enough to combat the rebel forces in the area."

"I understand, sir." If they managed to take Sonalia, it would give them an uninterrupted ring of imperially-aligned systems, a major foothold in the ongoing war against the New Republic.

"You are going to be part of the advance troops sent to the planet's surface, Lieutenant. The official briefings will begin within the week, but I felt it..." Dias paused to think of the appropriate word, and simply said, "...prudent to inform you ahead of time."

Jan didn't ask why, though he did wonder. He suspected that Commander Dias was up to something, but in his time as Dias' aide he had found the man considerably more benign than Maldict, though they were acting along the same military plans. In any case he doubted that the older man was planning something unsavoury, unless Dias was _really _good at hiding his emotions.

"I'm...glad you think so, sir."

Dias turned back to the display, crossing his arms in thought. Eventually he asked, "Kaven. What made you go outside the night the Anzati was spotted?"

"I couldn't sleep, sir," Jan said, carefully. Did Dias suspect that he had been the target?

"The nights do get...stuffy, I admit," the commander replied. "But what I would like to know, is how you managed to spot him in time. Anzati are notoriously stealthy, worse than Bothan spies. Silent and quick-most don't even see them coming, I imagine."

Jan shifted uncomfortably. "I just...had a feeling that something was there. Like I was being watched."

"Ah, I see," said the older man. "Intuition is a good quality for an officer. You needn't be concerned, Lieutenant. I was only curious." He reached out and took his cap from his desk, replacing it on his head. "You are dismissed."

His aide rose. "Yes, sir."

* * *

The surface of the water rippled, disturbing the image of a worried young man with dark hair. Another drop fell from his outstretched finger, and the concentric rings it produced trailed away into nothingness.

Kaven withdrew his hand and sighed, settling back on the edge of the pier and resting his chin on his knees.

Five days he had been gone from Feladorn, and even time that short had been enough to go astray. The catastrophe on the _Imperial Dawn _had shown him how undisciplined he still was. Where becoming a proper Jedi would take years, he had been training for mere months, and it showed.

Talos had warned him about this. Now he wished that he had taken it more to heart.

He was not sorry for Thule's death, but the way he had gotten onto the ship had been despicable. He hadn't meant for it to turn out the way it had, but he'd been seeing red after talking to Jan, and things had arranged themselves with chill clarity. Even then, he hadn't intended to kill Thule. What he _had _intended was to take the captain prisoner, march him down to the admiral's office, and unload the whole story.

Then Thule had made that comment about his brother.

The pilot became a silhouette in the glow of the Caerulian sunset, and as the sun sank into the horizon he thought about how easily, how familiarly the dark side had come to him. It was going to be difficult for him to leave it behind, he knew, since he had lived in the Empire-where ruthlessness was often a way of life-for so long. But he _would _leave it behind, and he would not let his nightmares become prophecies.

A hand fell on his shoulder, startling him. "After so many months, you come back to Caerul. Mebbe you feel safe here, eh?"

Kaven looked up at the speaker. "Hey-you're that fisherman."

The alien merely smiled and leaned on the carved walking stick he held. This time, the pilot noticed something new about him.

"The Force is with you," he said. The fisherman nodded. "You're not...a Jedi, are you?"

"Nope." The Caerulian sat down beside him, dipping his feet in the water and swishing them gently. "Can't say I ever saw a Jedi out in these parts. I just am what I am. You know what you are yet, boy?"

Kaven shook his head. "Still just a lost fish." After a long while he said, "I do feel safe here. There's just something...nice about this place."

The alien nodded again at that. "You ever find that Jedi of yours? Trained up a bit?"

"Yes. I'm still just a padawan, but..." The human shrugged.

"Your Jedi, did dey ever tell you about places steeped in de dark side of de Force?"

Talos had mentioned places like that, like the Sith homeworld of Korriban. The Chiss had told him to avoid those places. "Yes...?"

"Caerul-" here the fisherman gestured all around them with the stick, "-is de opposite. No dark side types in dis planet's history."

So that's why he had always felt safe on Caerul. Kaven opened his mouth to ask if any Caerulians had ever been dark-siders, but then shut it again, thinking: _He said the _planet's _history, not the species. Any species capable of Force sensitivity probably has its Dark Jedi._

He paused, trying to sort out the tangle of feelings he had been grappling with since fleeing Ammergau. "The Empire knows about me. They want to train me as a Dark Jedi."

"But that's not what _you _want, eh? You wanted to be an imperial Jedi."

The pilot bowed his head. He had always trusted Admiral Makar, but their brief exchange on the ship had shaken him to the bone, and he felt betrayed. It couldn't be right; the admiral wouldn't _want _him on the dark side...would he?

"I don't know what to do," he said, eventually. "I can't go back to the Empire now. I'm not experienced enough. They'll...change me." A vision of flame and Stormtroopers passed behind his eyes, and he tensed. "I don't know what to do."

"Listen to de Force," the fisherman told him. "It's strong here. Let it guide you. Take all de time you need, and sort yourself out." With a soft grunt he got up, and looked down at the human sitting curled up on the dock. "Mebbe get some sleep, mebbe get a meal, best thing of all is to relax and think about things. Mebbe you want some advice?"

Kaven nodded.

"You know where to find me, then, eh? First, get some rest. Den decide what to do from dere."

The alien left, his stick clopping on the wooden planks of the dock as he went. The human tugged his robes closer to himself, despite the warmth in the air, and gazed up at the stars.

_There must be a place for me somewhere, _he thought. _But where?_

* * *

His dreams were uneasy that night, and when he awoke to find that morning had broken over Caerul, the afterimage of a semicircle of robed figures stayed long in his mind. After he had washed the sweat from his body, he went outside. It was cooler that day, and clouds covered the sun.

Kaven sat down at the end of the pier and crossed his legs, resting his chin atop his hands as he looked out over the bay.

He had never thought of himself as an evil man, but now in his weaker moments a small part of him had begun to wonder if he was possessed of an evil core. Although the dark side did not tempt him actively, his recent...slips had begun to foster doubt in him. He had been with the Empire for so long, using the dark side in his dogfights, that it had become almost second nature to him. And now that he could use the Force at will...

The officer shook his head. Talos had said that it was possible to leave it behind, and he would. But he needed someone to guide him, to help him adjust to the ways of the Jedi. To keep him from going astray.

Perhaps the fisherman could-

Kaven snorted. The Caerulian was no Jedi, and he professed no knowledge of their ways. He had his own way of using the Force, and the human suspected that it bore little resemblance to Jedi teachings.

What to do, then? He was, most assuredly, not about to let Hrakis teach him anything, nor was he going to take the training the Empire would give him-they would probably turn him over to the Reborn or something-and he did not have the credits to deal with Mira again. She was reliable, but she was expensive.

What did that leave? He could go to the new Jedi order, but they were with the Republic, and he was still identified as an imperial officer. He had no Jedi holocron in his possession, which left out the option of a recorded teacher. He could go looking for one, but most if not all were likely in the possession of the Jedi order, considering.

He gazed into the water, thinking of the dreams he had had since leaving Ammergau. Most had been memories, but some had been things he had never seen before. Confusing images, without rhyme or reason. There had been figures in orange robes, bearing red lightsabers, and a long, dark forest, and an older Jedi with a craggy face and a green lightsaber. He had not thought of Lieutenant Sutler for a long time, but he had dreamed of him, too. The Republic officer had been near a lakeshore, talking to him, with a thoughtful expression.

It was the Jedi that intrigued Kaven, and he wondered if he had had a vision of a future master. He was not one of those Jedi prone to visions, despite his active dream-life, but a part of him hoped that this one would come to be true. He needed an authority figure.

The Jedi had been human, male, maybe in his late fifties, with a short topknot and a short grey beard. Something of a hardass, maybe, though he hadn't spoken in the brief moment Kaven had seen him. There had been blaster scars on the man's armour-he wasn't one to sit back and watch a battle.

As hard as he tried, Kaven could only remember walking into a room and the man turning to look at him. That was all.

Although Talos had been nobody's partisan, the pilot thought about the look of _this _Jedi and thought of him as nothing but Republic. But...if he would be his teacher, then that meant...

_I'll never join those rebels, _Kaven thought, though his resolve to be with the Empire had weakened somewhat after the exchange with Admiral Makar. _No. There has to be someone else. After all this, I can't just join the Republic. I can't._

He drew a deep breath and began to meditate on the Force, trying with all his heart to listen to it and find his way.

* * *

"I felt you coming a while back, so I got some soup ready," said the fisherman, when he heard the soft rustle of Kaven's boots in the grass. He ladled some of it into a bowl, then turned to face the human. "What, you didn't expect it? It's getting late in de day."

The young man gave the alien an apologetic smile. "Thank you," he said, accepting the proffered bowl. They sat down across from each other, on the riverbank where they had first met.

"You come for de company, or de advice?"

"Both," the pilot replied. "It's nice to just talk to someone."

The fisherman grinned. "Lonely, I bet, being on de run."

Kaven nodded. Back on Feladorn it hadn't been so bad, since he had had Talos, but now that he was back on the run, loneliness was starting to creep in again. Now he would have even welcomed Captain Argent and his crew as company. "I need advice," he said at length, in a soft voice. "I want to go back to my friends and family. But my admiral...wants me trained as a Dark Jedi, like the ones the Empire works with. I don't want that." He bowed his head, running a hand through his hair distractedly. "I trusted the admiral. I never thought that he would want that for me. Now I don't know what to think."

"Den mebbe it is time to search your feelings," the alien replied.

"I _want _to trust him." Kaven sighed. "He's been almost like a grandfather to me, in a way. I'm just a pilot, but he always made time to talk to me. I feel...that he's a good man. But I need guidance, from someone who can use the Force-someone who can teach me how to be a Jedi."

"Sounds like a job for other Jedi."

"But they are with the Republic."

The fisherman took a long drink of his soup. "I'll be honest," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "I have no love for de Empire. I even think it's rotten to de core. You, you are a good kid. Born on de wrong side, mebbe, from some points of view. But a good kid. This hate of de New Republic, it is your shadow. It is why de dark side is so dangerous to you, why you have some of it in you. The Jedi, dey say that fear leads to anger, that anger leads to hate, that hate leads to de dark side. Why do you hate de Republic?"

"My older brother Lucian was killed during the civil war."

"Ah, during de war, you say...?"

Kaven felt his cheeks grow hot. "He was my _life._"

"That is a tragedy," the fisherman said mildly, "as every war is. On Caerul we are pacifists. Your reason, it is as understandable as it is common."

The pilot's ruffled feathers smoothed. The alien was not lecturing him. Others had before, had essentially told him to get over it because his story had been repeated countless times before. He hated that.

"You do not wish to go to de dark side. You want to be a Jedi. You know what their place is in de New Republic." The Caerulian ladled another helping of soup into his bowl. Kaven tasted his, and found it bitter. "My advice is to forgive, and go to de Jedi."

"Forgive..." The officer stared into his bowl at his shadowy outline, and then lifted it to his lips and swallowed the bitter liquid. His eyes shut, and he raised a fist to his mouth to hide his grimace, setting the bowl down. "I'll...think about this," he said finally, once the taste had subsided. He got up. "Thank you."

The fisherman watched him go. The pilot's feelings rang out in the Force like a war zone. "May de Force be with you, young Jedi," he said softly.


	11. Chapter 10: The New Empire

**Chapter 10:**

**The New Empire**

_Nar Shaddaa. The Smugglers' Moon, located in Hutt space in the Outer Rim._

_Two weeks later._

"I don't like it," said Bal Kodar.

"Crystals mined on Artus, with slaves from the New Republic," his partner replied, rubbing her temple, "A secret base on Kejim. Cortosis mines. Now reports of more Dark Jedi than the Empire has ever had are starting to filter in."

"And this 'Reborn' faction. Intel reports that the head of it is Admiral Galak Fyyar." The Jedi sighed. "By the sounds of it, he's building an army."

"But how is he doing this? Where could he be getting so many Dark Jedi?"

"That," said the Zabrak, "Is what we need to find out."

The two were sitting in a cantina called the Frozen Nebula, run by an information broker well known across Nar Shaddaa, an eccentric Hutt by the name of Mira. Bal Kodar was the older of the two, in his mid-twenties, a red-skinned Zabrak from Iridonia. His partner was a year younger, an Alderaanian human named Nova Trev. Both Jedi, they were students at Luke Skywalker's academy on Yavin IV. Bal was tall and well-built, with a shaved head and a slightly mercenary manner of dress, while Nova was of more average height and build, with dark brown hair that fell to her shoulders. She favoured the more standard Jedi tunic.

"Hum," she said, after a moment. "Do we know that guy?"

"Huh?" Bal glanced over to the counter, where a man in robes was talking quietly with the Theelin hybrid bartender. Apparently flirting a little, by the look on her face. "Why?"

"Because he keeps looking this way."

Now they both looked over at the stranger, who glanced over at them again. He was young, with wavy brown hair and a slim build. Quite handsome as well, though there was something about his face that spoke of mischief. He turned to them fully. He was wearing a floor-length brown robe over a tight-fitting, high-collared black shirt and tan tunic, a Jedi-like ensemble. His hands were covered by black leather gloves.

"Should we expect trouble?" Bal whispered in Nova's ear.

"Not the malevolent kind. Still, I'm not picking up much from him."

"Hiding something?"

"Certainly."

With a measured, almost military walk the man approached them, his expression carefully neutral. He met the eyes of the Jedi evenly and then said, "The Force is strong with you two." His accent was Coruscanti.

"Who are you, to be able to tell us that?" Bal asked.

"A friend, I should hope," the man replied. "Or at least not an enemy." He closed his eyes for a moment, and then they felt it. He could use the Force as well. "In any case, we have a common...friend. I'm a Jedi as well."

Nova examined him. "You're not from the academy."

"No, I took training elsewhere. My name is Erril Kaven." He gave the female Jedi a disarming smile, a sure sign of a conman, though he seemed honest enough so far. "Might I have the pleasure of _your _names?"

"Nova Trev."

"Bal Kodar." The Zabrak Jedi's brow furrowed a little in thought. "Erril Kaven...Have I heard that name before?"

Kaven looked a little discomfited. "Uh, maybe. But, look-could I sit down a moment? As much as I like chatting, I do have a reason for it."

Without further ado the mysterious Jedi sat down across from them. His face was not one known to Bal, but the name was indeed familiar. He was sure that he had heard it before, even if just in passing.

"I want to study at your Jedi academy," Kaven said carefully. "I'm not a novice, exactly, but I'm feeling a little unpolished, if you know my meaning. I haven't been studying Jedi ways for very long. Does the academy accept older recruits, or is it more like the Old Republic?"

Apparently the young man knew some Jedi lore, whoever he really was. "It would accept older recruits, as long as you're willing to adhere to our ways," Bal told him. "Where have you been studying, to know about the Old Republic's way?"

Kaven gave him an enigmatic little smile. "I've been studying with a knight of the Old Republic," he said, "and he warned me that the new Jedi order might be a bit different from what he'd taught me. It's...fully bonded with the New Republic?"

Deep beneath the surface, something in Bal's memory moved. "Yes."

"If I joined the academy, I would by association be joining the Republic?"

There was something about the way he said _Republic _that seemed hesitant. The feeling that the Zabrak should know this man got a little stronger. "Yes."

"Not at the Republic's command, surely?"

"You're not a staunch supporter of the Republic, then?" asked Nova, who had also noticed Kaven's hesitation.

It twigged. "No," Bal said slowly, rising to his feet, "He's not. Because he's an imperial officer."

Kaven's face went utterly still, and something that was not unlike a faint rumble of thunder sounded in the Force. There was a very full silence as he and the Jedi regarded each other, and then he said, "Yes. I _was _an imperial officer, a TIE pilot, in fact, of some repute. I expect that's why you know my name."

"You're wanted in the Republic as a Dark Jedi," Nova said, now recalling the words of the officer they had spoken to not so long ago. "You were captured on Kuan, but escaped back to the Empire later. You were in command of a cortosis mining operation at Bal'demnic before that."

Kaven's expression was impassive. "I never returned to the Empire. I was framed for treason, and I am now wanted as an imperial traitor."

"At Bal'demnic the Empire was using Kon'me slaves, and shipping the cortosis to the Reborn faction," the Zabrak commented. "And you were in command of that...Captain."

At that Kaven's lips thinned. "I've learned...a few things...about the Empire...since then," he forced out. "And it's _ex-_Captain, thank you _very _much."

The female Jedi shot her partner a warning glance. "Bal, lay off of him for a moment," she hissed, and then turned back to Kaven. "_Are _you planning on defecting to the Republic, then?"

The TIE pilot folded his hands. "Yes."

"You would leave the Empire behind and join us?"

"Yes."

Bal looked at Nova out of the corner of his eye. "Can I talk to you a moment? Privately, I mean."

She nodded. With resignation Kaven jerked a thumb over his shoulder at a door on the cantina's right side. "That room's free," he said blandly. "I'll wait for you."

* * *

"I don't trust him," the Zabrak told his partner, once they were within the privacy of the next room.

"He's not the first to defect, Bal." The human seemed puzzled by his reaction. "You're usually quite welcoming. You're not...that is...you don't think of him as...competition of any sort?"

Bal's eyebrows raised. "Competition for what?" he asked, not understanding what in the world she could mean by that.

"Er, never mind. Do you see something about him that I don't?"

The Jedi considered. "I don't know," he admitted. "He does seem like a genuine defector; he's no Dark Jedi. But I've just got this weird feeling about him, like it might be a mistake to go with him."

"You don't think he's an imperial spy of some sort?"

"No...but..." Bal stopped, unsure of how to describe the odd feeling. It felt like something were sliding into place, as if Kaven was going to play a vital role in his life. The problem was that he didn't know whether that role would be a good one or not.

"Why don't we take him along on our investigation of the Share Installation?" he suggested. "It might be worth, well, testing him out before we go and take him back to the academy-getting to know him, or whatever you might want to call it. Right now it might not be the best idea to bring back just anyone, especially if they have any affiliation with the Empire."

Nova thought about that. "Yes, that could work. If he's suspect, then the two of us will be more than a match for him. If he's true, then another Jedi will be a welcome addition, and Master Skywalker might be interested in what he knows of the old Jedi order. But I want to talk to him some more first, before we bring this up."

"Right..."

* * *

Kaven was sitting with his face in his hand when they came back inside, in a position more associated with regret than patient waiting. When he looked up again, his expression of misery changed to neutrality so fast that Nova wondered if it had been there in the first place.

The ex-officer folded his hands. "Am I to be taken or discarded, gentlemen?" he asked crisply, once they had settled down across from him.

_He's not happy defecting, _the female Jedi thought. _But I suppose he's just realized the truth about the Empire. His world's changed. _"Taken," she said. "But before we really decide anything, we'd like to talk to you for a while."

"I expected as much."

"First, how did you know where to find us?"

"I didn't know," Kaven answered. "For two weeks I've been casting about looking for Jedi and it seems I just got lucky today."

"You mentioned that you'd been studying under a knight of the _Old _Republic," Bal remarked. "But you haven't made a move to defect until now. The Jedi are part of the Republic-how is that you learned from one while being an imperial?"

"My master was nonpartisan. He felt a Jedi's real duty was to the Force, not to any government."

"Was? I'm sorry for your loss, then," Nova replied.

Kaven shook his head. "He's alive...alive and well. But I had to leave him, because staying would have put him in danger from the Empire. I couldn't let anything happen to him."

"Who was your master?"

The young man hesitated. "His name is Talos," he said at length. "But I would rather not give out his location, if it's all the same to you. They prefer to keep out of galactic affairs out there."

The Jedi nodded. "I understand," said Bal. "So how did you come to get framed for treason?"

"Long story."

"Humour us?"

Kaven did, while the life of the cantina flowed in and out around them. Although the human Jedi was certain that the pilot was keeping certain details to himself, she did not push him for them. The cracks could be filled in later.

After he was done, they sat back. "We'll take you back to the academy," the Zabrak told him, "On one condition."

"I'm listening."

"There's an imperial outpost in an asteroid field located in the Share sector. Rumour has it that the Remnant's found trace amounts of cortosis there."

Kaven ran a hand through his hair. "If you're looking for intelligence reports from me, sorry, I can't help you there. I can confirm the Bal'demnic survey, but the Share sector was never patrolled by my fleet."

"We want you to accompany us on our investigation."

The ex-officer stopped dead. "Accompany you," he repeated. "As in...sneak in, gather information, and...engage...any imperial forces that happen to find us?"

"We have a mission to complete."

"Yes..." Kaven stared down at his hands, looking forlorn. "I suppose that it must be done. If I am to become a Jedi, I must be an enemy of the Empire," he murmured. "I'll join you." Oddly, Nova felt a pang of sadness from him. "Yes...I'll join you."

"We'll leave immediately."

* * *

Later on, the pilot walked to the landing pad he had left his Starfighter on, a dark figure in the glow of the streetlamps. He raised the canopy and climbed in, flipping back his hood and donning the headset.

There was a series of bleeps from his left, and the ship's computer translated the astromech's comments into Basic characters on the screen before him. "It's all right, Arfour," Kaven said. He felt on fire on the inside. "We're leaving Nar Shaddaa now. Start uploading the coordinates for the Share sector, Mesa Toor system."

He lifted off and joined the two Jedi in orbit, carefully keeping his feelings hidden from them. He opened the com channel, allowing them to communicate with him.

"_An Aethersprite,_" he heard the Zabrak say in surprise, "_Out of all the ships I was picturing, that wasn't it._"

"It's true that I'm most used to a TIE Defender," Kaven said, "But I found that a Jedi Starfighter will suffice these days."

"_Erril, you have the coordinates for the Share Installation?_" Nova asked him. The pilot confirmed it. "_Will that ship be able to keep up? It's got to be at least thirty years old..._"

"It's experienced," Kaven replied. "Don't worry about it."

They made the jump into hyperspace. Kaven was aware that this mission was a trial run to see whether he still had any loyalty to the Empire-he wasn't _daft_-and although he didn't like the thought of killing imperial troops, he knew that he would have to eventually. His old life was coming to an end. He had joined the Republic.

That was the thing that really hurt.

_Now, _he thought, as the stars streamed by, _But not forever._

* * *

Places like asteroid fields were always prime sources of mineral ore, and it was obvious to the Jedi as they flew in that the Share Installation was home to a fully functioning mine. The base was built into the largest of the asteroids, a platelet-shaped chunk of rock nearly the size of a moon.

"_Looks like they've got miners hired or drafted,_" Nova said over the channel. There were ships of various makes docking in the bays.

"Hired," Kaven said. "If they were using slaves, the transport vessels would be purely imperial issue. I'm seeing ships from a number of sources."

"_Fair enough. Where is our entry point?_"

"The miners' docking bay would be the least noticeable choice," the pilot replied. "So I would recommend that one."

"_W-_" Whatever Bal's reply was going to be, the Zabrak was cut short as they received a transmission from the facility.

The message was curt and to the point. "_Identify yourselves and state your business._"

"Imperial citizens, sir," Kaven answered, before either of the Jedi could reply. "We're looking for employment in the mines."

"_Lot forty-four, on the left side of the cargo bay. Report directly to the employment office once you've landed. I trust you will not need an escort._"

"No, sir. We're heading for the lot now."

"_I hope you know what you're doing,_" Bal said, as they moved toward the hangar the flight control officer had indicated.

"I hope so, too."

* * *

They were able to land and disembark without incident, and as Kaven climbed down, R4-P8 popped out of its compartment and began to roll toward him, bleeping hopefully.

He held out a hand. "Just stay here, Arfour. We'll take care of it." The droid toodled in response. Trying to guess what it was about, the padawan added: "You'll be fine. The Empire's got a zero-tolerance policy toward ship thievery, so nobody'd dare try it here. Just sit tight and wait for us."

The droid rolled back. As they started away, Bal remarked, "You talk to your droid like it's a friend of yours."

"He was just about my only companion for three standard weeks. We got to know each other a bit."

They tucked their robes around themselves and went to the employment office, where a woman in a grey uniform met them. She looked them over and said, "So you're the applicants. I'll need your names, before we begin."

"You don't need to know our names," Kaven said, with a wave of his hand. "You have jobs for us."

She blinked. "I don't need to know your names. Never mind. I have jobs for you." She turned to Bal. "You look like a capable sort. Are you good with a hydraulic jack?"

He nodded. "Yes. I've been using that sort of thing for years."

The employment officer turned to Nova next. "You don't look strong enough for manual labour. What are _your _qualifications?"

"Heavy equipment operator," the Jedi replied, seeming a little put out at the assumptions of her strength. "Class three."

"Hmm. There may be a place for you in the shipping bay, then. We do need someone for the fork-lifts." The woman looked at Kaven. "And what about you?"

"I'm a pilot," he replied. "First class. I specialize in cargo flights."

"Good, we've been needing a replacement pilot for the last week." The officer returned to her desk, and there was the scurrying click of keys as she typed. "You three may stay in the visitors' quarters until we've found something more long-term." She handed each of them a key-card. "These will let you into your storage lockers-their numbers and locations are listed. We'll discuss your wages once you've checked in and changed into more suitable clothing. Registration will take some time, but until then there are civilian amenities available..."

* * *

After they had escaped the employment office, the three Jedi made for the visitors' quarters, and ducked into the room Bal had been given, locking the door behind them.

"All right, now what?" Nova asked. "That woman's going to expect us back in the next two hours."

"I expect you've got a map of the facility," Kaven remarked.

The human Jedi reached into her robes and took out a datapad. "Yes. There's a tramline leading from the cargo bay to the mine, but all the doors between here and there are going to be locked."

"That mine's going to have tight security," Bal added. "And it's six floors down."

Kaven was well aware of the security measures involved. Sentry droids, coded door locks, guards on patrol...it was going to be nothing like the centre they were in now. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "None of the codes I know will be of any use here," he said reflectively, "Unless we want to mug, mind-trick, and cut our way down to the mines, we'll have to find another way in."

The Zabrak looked sideways at him. "Such as? You're not trying to be the one leading us in, are you?"

"No. You can trust me on this-I don't want to be caught, either." The pilot turned his face upward in thought. "How in the world are we going to get in...?"

Then he stopped.

He looked back to Nova. "Does that map include the ventilation system?"

"Yes."

Kaven pointed upward, at the grate in the ceiling. "I think we might have a way in."

Bal looked at it doubtfully. "Will we fit?"

"This place needs the best circulatory system it can get. The vents on Bal'demnic were large enough to fit in. Full of mine crabs, though-well, that's not likely to be a problem here. The worst thing we might run into is dust bunnies."

The Zabrak Jedi looked at him as though a mynock had just crawled out of his ear. "What were you doing in the _vents?_"

"Since the buildings are connected and there's no air outside," Kaven continued, electing not to answer that one, "the vents will be connected, more or less. We might have to take a few detours, but we could get to the tramcar that way."

Nova nodded to her partner. "Give me a boost. I'm going to take a look inside."

The Zabrak helped her up, and she stood on his shoulders as she lifted the covering and pushed it aside, sticking her head inside.

"You've worked together a while," Kaven remarked.

"There's enough room for us to go single file," the human said, pulling her head out again. "I've got the map, so I'll go first." Without further comment she gripped the sides of the vent and pulled herself in. Bal bent his knees and leapt up, scrambling in after her, and Kaven followed.

* * *

The air had a warm, recycled taste as they made their way through the ducts, being very careful to pass silently over the grates they encountered.

They came to a halt, and Kaven raised an eyebrow. It didn't seem like they had gone far enough to be near the cargo bay. Bal looked over his shoulder and put a finger to his lips, then pointed downwards.

The pilot understood when he heard the murmur of voices. They were right over an office, and movements behind the grate might be noticed by those in the room. Aware that they might be in for a long wait, Kaven settled down and listened.

"-come to see how the operation is proceeding," a man's voice said.

"Is he here?" the man's companion asked.

"Not yet. The commander said he would arrive soon."

There was a creak of leather. Someone had just sat back in his chair. "No doubt he'll expect it all to have come out yesterday. Hmmph. Twenty thousand kilograms of metal ore don't just mine themselves."

"The jacks have been breaking down again."

"Ah. We'll hear about it."

"I'm glad the commander will be talking to him instead of me. Those Reborn give me the creeps."

"Loose lips, Lieutenant."

"Pardon me, sir."

"But I agree. Report to the commander when our guest arrives, and have a party assembled to greet him. It would not be prudent to be unprepared for his arrival. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

There was the sound of the door sliding open, and the click of boot heels. The door closed again. In the ducts, Bal looked back to Kaven again and mouthed, _Reborn?_

Nova's face appeared from around the Zabrak's shoulder, and she nodded for them to continue on. The officer below them was absorbed in his work and was facing away from the grate.

They shimmied a safe distance away, and then the male Jedi whispered, "Sounds like some officer from the Reborn faction's coming to have a look at how the mining's going."

Kaven paused. "I don't know," he whispered back. "It sounded like 'Reborn' referred to a person instead of the faction itself. I'm not entirely certain what the Reborn _are. _If this weren't the Empire, I would suspect some religious thing-a cult, perhaps."

"What _do _you know about the Reborn?"

The pilot shrugged. "It's a faction of the Empire headed by Galak Fyyar, and it has a certain influence on some areas of the Outer Rim, such as Artus and Kejim. I've heard rumours to the effect of them employing a number of Dark Jedi, but I suspect my own admiral did not wish to associate with them. Possibly a splinter group, but certainly supporters of Emperor Palpatine."

He frowned as a question struck him. During his stint as commander of the Bal'demnic operation, they had been shipping cortosis to the Reborn faction. Had Admiral Makar not wanted to join them at all...or not until he was ready?

"What are they using the cortosis for?"

"Most likely the hulls of warships, although cortosis would be useful if...they were planning to attack the Jedi..."

A thoughtful silence followed this. Then Bal said, "We need to stop this operation and warn the others."

"Come on." Nova nodded to the darkness of the shaft. "The tramcar's just ahead."

* * *

When the imperial shuttle landed, Commander Tanis and a contingent of men were there to greet their visitor. As the walkway lowered, the officer felt a cool trickle of sweat down his back. He hated dealing with Dark Jedi. Nonetheless, he and the Stormtroopers stood at attention as the man disembarked.

Their visitor was of indeterminable age, though his face was young enough. He wore an orange, cowled tunic, the hood of which was up, and a lightsaber hung at his belt. He was one of the new Dark Jedi currently being sent across the Remnant's territory.

"Tell me how the operation is proceeding, Commander," said the Reborn, as he closed with him.

"It goes smoothly, sir," the older man replied. There was something off about the Dark Jedi's gaze, a certain blankness he didn't like. "As of now forty-four percent of the cortosis ore has been removed and refined, and is awaiting shipment in the cargo bay."

"Then it goes _slowly. _The other metals are extracted in less than half the time."

The commander licked his lips. "With all due respect, sir, cortosis is the hardest mineral known to-"

"Punctuality will be rewarded, Commander," the Reborn said smoothly. "Have the remaining cortosis out within the next month. You _have _the resources for it."

A muscle went in Tanis' cheek. He was clenching his teeth. Before he could say anything, however, the Dark Jedi suddenly raised his head a little, glancing around with a frown.

"I sense something," he said.

_That hoodoo you call the Force, _the officer thought, and asked, "What is it, sir?"

Now the Reborn's eyes narrowed. "_Jedi,_" he hissed.

"_Jedi?_"

"In the mines." The young man turned and started decisively for the door. "I will deal with them myself."

Thinking of the rumours of a Jedi at the now-destroyed base on Artus, the commander drew his comlink from his breast pocket and contacted security. "Put the entire base on red alert," he told them. "I want a squad of Stormtroopers investigating each level, on the double. There may be Jedi about-they _must _be stopped. Don't bother to take prisoners."

He glanced at the shuttle as he put the thing away, then shook his head and followed after the Dark Jedi. He may have been a husband and father, but duty came first.

It always did.

* * *

Kaven, Bal, and Nova pulled up sharply as the doors to the mines suddenly slammed shut. From behind them they could hear an alarm starting.

"_Both _doors are sealed shut," they heard Bal mutter.

"Damn, and we'd been avoiding the patrols so well," the pilot said.

The Zabrak looked to Nova, saw that she was holding one hand to her head, and drew his lightsaber. With a stroke of blue plasma he severed the alarm on the wall. The noise died. "Better?"

"There's something here," she replied. "Something-_wrong._"

Kaven put a hand to his temple. "Wait, I-think I feel it, too. A Dark Jedi?"

"Whatever it is, it doesn't feel natural," Bal said firmly, keeping his lightsaber ignited as he looked around them at the empty room. "It's-warped, somehow...almost artificial."

"That's one way of describing it," Kaven remarked. "I've never felt anything like it before. And it's coming closer."

"Let's not wait around for the welcoming committee." Nova looked at the blast doors, and drew her lightsaber. It flashed emerald green as she ignited it. "We need to concentrate on the mission first." At that the Jedi began to methodically cut through the door. Bal joined her, so that they would meet in the middle, and Kaven stood with the handle of his own weapon in hand, watching the door opposite carefully.

_Is this how the Reborn feel? _he wondered. What he could feel approaching was like a twisted shadow, a distorted dark mirror. He fingered the ignition button on the handle of his lightsaber. _No wonder they give people the creeps._

"We're through!" he heard Bal exclaim.

"Watch out!" Nova shot back. Kaven's blade ignited and he turned, angling the lightsaber to deflect a shot from a disc-shaped sentry droid. It quivered as the bolt rebounded and struck it, and began to float back for a clearer shot at the Jedi.

Confident that the two in front would be able to cover him from the droids' fire, the pilot hurled his lightsaber. It spun through the air like a sawblade and swept the sentinel in two before it could fire again, and as it returned to his hand he saw the female Jedi cut down another with a downwards stroke.

"_Stormtroopers!_" Bal shouted.

They joined him in the room beyond the corridor, and caught glimpses of forms in white armour emerging from the opposite door.

"Hold it right there!" the trooper in the lead called, raising his blaster rifle. "Identify your-_guh!_" His command became a breathless grunt as the Zabrak Jedi used the Force to throw him backwards into his comrades, knocking them all down before they could spread out and fire.

The room was a round chamber, and a large pillar surrounding an air shaft in its centre would provide the troopers with some cover when they got to their feet and resumed fighting. From there they could pin the Jedi down until backup came to finish the job.

"This way!" Kaven cried. "I know a shortcut!"

"Anywhere's better than here," Nova said, jumping after the two men as they bolted for an unlocked door on their left.

"Where are we going?" Bal asked, as they passed through the doorway and began running up a wide flight of stairs.

"We're going to take a shortcut to the sixth level!"

"That's _down, _Erril!"

"Just trust me!"

They reached the top and turned immediately right, bursting into a large control room. There were four officers inside, all of whom turned in shock and, upon seeing the Jedi, drew their blasters. Three shots were fired and deflected back to the shooters, and as the others crumpled the remaining officer froze. He looked at the intruders, blanching, and then dropped his blaster pistol and backed away.

The man had to be just out of the academy, judging by his youth. Bal approached him, and he held up his hands. "Don't-I surrender!"

The Zabrak waved a hand. "You feel like taking a nap," he said calmly.

"I feel like taking a nap," the imperial officer repeated dreamily, and fell over sideways.

"Now what?" Nova demanded, turning away from where she had locked the door. "We're stuck in here with troopers on all sides, and there's no way down." She saw Kaven fiddling with a computer. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure the air current's not _too _strong..."

Bal looked from the pilot to the air shaft pillar in the room, and his brow knit. "You're not serious, are you?"

There was the sound of booted feet on the stairs, and voices coming closer. "Oh, very serious," Kaven replied. "This may be our only chance of getting downstairs in one piece. Help me cut that pillar open."

The Jedi sighed as he began to slice into the ferrocrete. "You really _were _a pilot, weren't you."

From the stairwell came a frustrated cry. "_Bloody _Jedi!" someone, obviously an officer, yelled at them, and then directed his attention toward his men. "Use those detonators and _blow _that door down!"

Bal's robes rippled from the wind as he finished making a large enough hole into the shaft, and he pulled the chunk of ferrocrete out of the way with a wave of his hand. "After you," he said to Kaven, stepping aside.

Kaven's hair blew back as he climbed in, standing for a second on a rim not even ten centimetres wide. "Here goes," he murmured, and pitched forward, spreading his limbs.

The powerful air currents caught his robes and pushed against his body, slowing his descent to a non-lethal level, and he coasted downwards. The others followed.

"This was a better idea than it sounded," Bal called down to him, "But will it go down all the way?"

"It ought to." They coasted down another twenty metres, and there was an explosion from above. "And we'll get there before _those _fellows do."

"_You won't get away with this!_" the officer shrieked, from nearly a hundred metres above them.

Despite himself, Kaven laughed. "I never thought I'd be flying outside of a ship."

With the roar of the wind in their ears they plunged downwards, passing level by level, until the fan became visible below them. There was no fear of the whirling blades; it was covered by a grate, and the three Jedi landed gracefully on the bottom, their robes still streaming upwards and the humans' hair blowing madly skyward. There were three grates at the roots of the pillar; they kicked one open and climbed out.

Kaven raked his hair back into place with his fingers. "Well, that was fun. Shame it was only one-way."

Nova was looking at him with newfound respect. "You're handy with that lightsaber," she said.

Kaven preened. "Well, I would hate to brag-"

Bal clapped him on the shoulder. "-so we'll spare you the pain of it. Come on-there's equipment begging for sabotage."

"Certainly..."

* * *

They ran into a patrol of Stormtroopers upon entering the sixth level of the mining facility itself, where the cortosis was being extracted. The miners in the area had fled when the firefight had begun, and by the time the last of the troopers had fallen, the place was silent as a tomb.

"Erril," Nova said, extinguishing her weapon. "Keep your eye out for any guards while Bal and I deal with the equipment store, and look out for that Dark Jedi-I think he's following us."

The ex-officer nodded. "I feel him, too. He's getting closer."

He turned away and began to walk the length of the room while Bal and Nova ran off in a flurry of brown robes, reaching out with the Force as he did so. He could feel the miners, moving away now, and other life forms in the facility as well.

_Hard to believe I'm working with Republic scum now, _he thought. _Well, it's only temporary, and I can always leave. I can decide what to do once I've learned _how _to be a Jedi, can't I?_

He ran his fingers over the curve of his lightsaber hilt. _After all, why _couldn't _there be imperial Jedi? Talos told me that it wasn't about where you stood, it was about which way you faced._

The door to the hall slid open behind him. Kaven turned.

There was a pale-faced man in orange robes facing him with a lightsaber in his hand. The blade ignited, glowing red.

_Uh-oh._

"Greetings, _Jedi,_" said the Reborn. Kaven's blade hissed out as well.

The Dark Jedi was holding his lightsaber in a way that reminded Kaven of Ataru, the fourth form, but it was identical to the way Nova had held hers. This man seemed to use one of the new styles.

Without further comment, the man came at him. Their lightsabers collided in flashes of red and gold, and crossed over as they pushed against each other, arms shaking with the exertion as each fought for dominance. Finally they leapt back, the Reborn with an acrobatic flip, and Kaven with a fencer's grace.

They studied each other. The Dark Jedi had roughly the same build as Kaven, though he was a little shorter, but what stood out was an odd blankness to his eyes, as if the mind behind them were not quite as it ought to be. Hrakis had neither felt nor looked the same way; obviously it wasn't a usual trait of dark-siders.

"You will _not _leave here," the Reborn told him.

"Aren't _we _charming." They came together again, and for a few moments there was nothing but the hiss and crackle of two lightsabers, punctuated by the odd grunt from either combatant. Kaven's booted foot came up and he kicked the Dark Jedi in the jaw, hard enough to knock him down. Before he could deliver a final blow, the Reborn flipped over and jumped back. He straightened, wiping the blood from his lip, and when he advanced again it was obvious that he meant to kill him.

He cut viciously toward Kaven's neck, but the pilot turned the blow aside, circling around to his side. Their lightsabers crossed again, and their eyes locked over the blades. "You're like a padawan, aren't you?" the ex-officer said with surprise. "You're good, but you're mechanical-just a learner!"

The Reborn's eyes widened. "How _dare _you!" he hissed, and pressed down harder, forcing Kaven back a step. The pilot had been trained for such situations, and managed to divert the man's strength, sidestepping at the same time to release himself from the blade grapple. His lightsaber swung around, and the Dark Jedi managed to turn and parry the blow in time to save himself from decapitation. There was a warning in his mind then, and the Jedi skidded briefly as the Reborn used the Force to shove him backwards.

Kaven returned fire, picking the Dark Jedi up bodily through the Force and throwing him against the wall. He then started toward him with finality, intent on ending this duel.

The hooded tunic the Reborn wore was familiar, though the ex-officer had most certainly never encountered someone like this before. It _was _Jedi-like, though it lacked the traditional robe. But where had he seen it before?

With a snarl the Dark Jedi swung at him again, and he blocked it. Now that he had witnessed the man's combat style, he was learning to adjust to it, and now he was on the full offensive, using all the advantages that Makashi brought out in single combat. The Reborn was forced into a retreating defence, unable to spare a single move to attack. Kaven was silent, his lips thin as he concentrated on the battle before him. As Talos had taught him, he moved economically, sparing power and using his dexterity to maximise his precision, drawing the Dark Jedi into his movements and synchronising them into something that was almost a dance.

When the opening came Kaven took it, and struck out as hard as he could with a mid-level slash across the Reborn's torso. The result was horrific, and the man fell in two halves.

Kaven closed his eyes and stood panting as he caught his breath, and then turned his back on the dead man. Bal and Nova had re-emerged sometime toward the end of the duel, at the very least in time to see the final blow, and were regarding him with equal looks of mute surprise.

"Those...are the Dark Jedi being trained...by the Reborn faction," he said, eventually. "I'd...tell you more, but he wasn't...in the mood to talk."

The Zabrak looked as though he wanted to say something, but just shook his head, apparently deciding to mention it later. "We've done what we could. Now it's time to get out of here."

Kaven nodded. "The base is on red alert. The air pressure in the shaft is down, so we'll have to take a more conventional route."

"According to the map, there's a bank of elevators used for bringing ore crates to the surface, just between here and the refinery." Nova pointed. "Of course, that's hardly safer than the stairwell, but at least it will take us directly to the cargo bay."

The pilot sighed as he started after the two. "Next time we infiltrate a place, might I suggest dressing up instead?"

* * *

The door to the elevator slid open, and the imperial officer halted as she was suddenly faced with the three Jedi currently besieging the facility. Two humans and a Zabrak, two men and a woman. Well aware of what a lightsaber could do to the living body, she stood frozen in place as they stepped in with her.

"Excuse me, could you press the 'up' button, please?" asked the handsome one, holding up one finger.

She didn't move.

He leaned forward and reached past her, pressing the button marked F1. The doors slid shut.

_I'm locked in here with three Jedi, _she thought. _I am _locked _in here with three _Jedi.

"I imagine this comes as something of a shock," the good-looking Jedi said, as they began to move upwards. There was cheeky amusement in his smile. "But you're quite safe. With me, at least." Over his shoulder, the other two Jedi exchanged a look.

"My name is Erril," he continued. "What's yours?"

_Is he _flirting _with me? _Feeling as if she'd stepped into an alternate dimension, she said, quietly, "Bryn." Then imperial pride kicked in and she said, in a louder voice, "_Lieutenant _Bryn Berian."

He nodded. "That's a lovely name to have." Behind him, the other two Jedi were looking decidedly unamused. "Have you been with the army long?"

"Two years," she replied, feeling surreal.

"This posting must be brutally boring," he said cheerfully, "Unless you're the sort that prefers peace and quiet, that is. I enjoy a bit of action, myself-but in fact, I don't think I could avoid it."

"Uh, Erril-" the Zabrak Jedi began.

Erril gave the lieutenant a look of ostensible embarrassment, his green eyes twinkling. "I'm new to this Jedi thing," he confided, and then straightened. "Well, here's our stop. I'd love to stay and chat, but we've got to be going. Blaster bolts to dodge and all that."

To the utter shock and bewilderment of all, he took her hand and kissed it like a gentleman, then said, "By the way, I took the liberty of pinching your blaster while you weren't looking, as I'd hate to get shot in the back. I'll leave it for you to pick up later."

The elevator stopped.

"Goodbye, Bryn," he added.

The door slid open, and within a moment the Jedi were dashing down the adjoining hall with their lightsabers blazing and their cloaks billowing out behind them.

The lieutenant stepped out of the elevator, and watched them disappear around the corner. When a Stormtrooper was suddenly thrown into sight, reality came crashing back down, and she whipped out her comlink and called for backup.

* * *

"You were flirting with that woman!" Nova exclaimed, as they ran down the corridor.

"She was gorgeous. I couldn't help myself."

"Erril! You were _hitting _on an enemy officer!"

"And I would do it again in an instant," he said, his boots skidding a little on the polished floor as they turned a sharp corner. From far behind them came the sounds of booted feet running, obviously more Stormtroopers. A group of them could easily mow three Jedi down, so flight was the order of the moment. There were rather a lot of them now, most of whom had been collected during the mad dash from the cargo bay. "Come, now-you're not jealous, are you?"

"Absolutely not. I'm just wondering if it's a good idea to take you home with us."

"I hate to break up this bickering," Bal said, "But we're about to run into a knot of imperials dead ahead."

If they got caught between Stormtroopers, their lives would be forfeit within a moment. Nova nodded toward a side room. "I'd rather take my chances with the vents again."

"Right!"

When they ducked into the room, they came nearly face to face with an officer and two troopers, and on impulse they struck out with their lightsabers. Within the next second the officer found himself pinned to the wall by Kaven's elbow, his blaster pistol swept neatly in two and lying on the floor. The glowing blade was poised several inches from his abdomen.

Kaven looked at the officer, who was in his late thirties, with curly, golden brown hair and golden brown eyes, and his eyes moved down to the pips on the breast of his uniform. "Commander," he said. "_Well, _now."

The base commander's lips thinned. "You will have nothing from me, Rebel."

It was unpleasantly jarring to the pilot to hear himself being referred to in tones _he _had always employed when referring to members of the Rebellion, but he let none of that show and replied, "I want nothing from you but to get out of here." He took hold of the man's collar and pulled him out in front of him, keeping his lightsaber at the ready. "Now, as you're my hostage...you can do that for me. Come on."

Bal didn't look pleased, but he and Nova nonetheless took up position before and behind Kaven and the commander, and they started for the miners' docking bay.

* * *

It was agonizingly slow going for Commander Tanis as the Jedi dragged him down the corridors. Stormtroopers had let them by, and were now trailing along behind the group with caution, aware that a single shot fired might mean the death of their commanding officer.

The Jedi with the yellow lightsaber's arm was still around his neck, and as he was walked backwards into the docking bay the commander's heart was pounding, and he found himself thinking angrily of the Reborn. _You were supposed to be so powerful, _he thought, _so why didn't you stop them, you arrogant bastard?_ _Why?_

The Zabrak in front of them waved a hand and the door to the corridor slid down, cutting off the troopers' access to them.

"You will let us pass," he heard the female Jedi say from behind them, sounding smooth and calm. There were footsteps as beings around them stood aside.

They came to a halt. "What are you going to do?" Tanis asked the man holding him, in a low voice.

"Leave," the Jedi answered.

"You know what I mean. I _know _what Jedi will do to imperials."

There was a thoughtful pause from the young man as the other Jedi boarded their spacecraft. Then the Jedi whispered, "Evacuate this place, Commander. When the reports of cortosis reach the New Republic, they _will _send troops here."

Then he released him. Tanis took two staggering steps forward, then whirled to face the Jedi and saw that the man was jogging over to an Aethersprite docked nearby.

As the canopy came down the commander broke into an all-out sprint, skidding to a stop as he opened the doors to the hangar. Once freed, the Stormtroopers immediately surrounded him. "Awaiting orders, sir," one said.

"Go to the mines and look for that blasted Dark Jedi Desann sent us," Tanis ordered him. To a lieutenant he said, "Have all gunners lock down on those two ships and annihilate them before they reach hyperspace."

"Yes, sir." The man ran off.

The commander brushed his hair back with one gloved hand. "I want damage reports. Casualty lists. But above all, I want those rebels _dead_."

After the troopers and officers had taken off to survey the damages and search for any remaining rebels, Tanis turned back to the barrier and watched as the flash of lasers began, wondering why in the world the Jedi with the yellow lightsaber would bother to warn him.

* * *

R4-P8 bleeped in alarm at the flashes all around them. "Right, I _know _they're blisteringly accurate," Kaven retorted, gritting his teeth as he wove around asteroids and shots from the gunners. Just behind them, a small asteroid shattered from the blaster fire. "If we didn't have these asteroids for company, we'd either be dust or be free by now, Arfour."

A green beam passed by dazzlingly close, and the Jedi blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the afterimage it left in his eyes. "_Erril!_" Nova said, over the comlink. "_Set your course for Sonalia-we'll need to warn the military of the Remnant's plans before we go back to Yavin._"

"Roger that," Kaven replied. "Arfour, you heard her. We're heading for Sonalia now."

The droid toodled.

"One step ahead of you," the pilot said, and did a barrel roll to avoid another beam of green light. "I felt that one coming a mile away." They cleared the asteroid belt, and made the leap into hyperspace. The human let his shoulders sag.

Arfour's question appeared on the screen in front of him.

At the sight of it a tired smile touched Kaven's lips. "I don't know, Arfour-I might not be. I could really use Talos' company right now. Don't worry about me-I'll be all right. Eventually."

* * *

Later, Commander Tanis sat down in his office at the Share Installation, and put his face in his hands as he thought.

Sixteen troopers and three officers dead. Twelve wounded. All of the machines sabotaged. The Reborn dead as well, and quite thoroughly so. Remove the cortosis within the next month? It would take them that long to get back online after something like this.

The Jedi had told him to evacuate the facility. Tanis didn't doubt the idea of Republic troops coming to them; cortosis was too valuable to leave. But why would a Jedi tell him so? Why would he _care?_

The high command would not be happy when he reported this to them, and would most likely order him to remain in position until the ore was extracted. The installation's remote location had made it virtually unknown, but if they were to come under attack, they were quite a long distance from help. They were not equipped to withstand prolonged fighting. They would be wiped out.

The Reborn had been one of the soldiers of the great army currently being built by Admiral Fyyar and his associates, but in Tanis' opinion the Dark Jedi had been about as useful as a knife in a gunfight. None of the Jedi had even been wounded, at least not visibly.

Tanis had thought at first that the Reborn faction could revive the Empire, but now he was beginning to have doubts about that. Besides, there was another fact that had reared its head as of late; _he just didn't like Dark Jedi_. Where there were two, there was one planning to stab the other in the back, and where there were three, there were two planning to overthrow the third. The more there were, the worse it got. It was so...unstable. One couldn't _possibly _keep a government running on that.

The officer's eyes drifted to the picture of his wife and young daughter that he kept on his desk, and he gazed at it for a long time as the wheels in his head turned.

_No more of this, _he thought, eventually. _The Reborn faction will have neither support from me nor my men. It will get us all killed in the end._

The cortosis they had gleaned would go to another faction. And Tanis knew exactly which one.

* * *

The two ships dove down through a clear blue sky and sped over a land covered with forests and lakes. After nearly half an hour's flight a military base came into sight, and the vessels landed there.

"You're all right?" Nova asked, as Kaven disembarked from his Starfighter. "You seem a bit withdrawn."

"I'm all right," Kaven said. "Arfour, come along."

The little astromech went wheeling over to him, and the pilot knelt. He ran a hand over the top of its dome in a manner that reminded the two Jedi of a parent stroking their child's face. Oddly affectionate, for a man and his droid.

"The commander probably won't be available at once," the female Jedi commented to her partner. "But we can talk to Lieutenant Sutler in the meantime."

Kaven suddenly stood up straight, at a surprised bleep from Arfour. "_Sutler?_"

"Yes, he's one of the officers here."

"We're going to see Lieutenant Sutler?" The padawan's expression was a mixture of surprise and foreboding. "As in, _Sutler? _Tall, thin, cranky? Dark hair?"

"That sounds about right," agreed Bal, with a grin.

Nova raised an eyebrow. "I think he's quite nice. He's just serious-minded."

"Sounds like you two have met," the Zabrak added.

"Did I mention he was going to have me shot?"

"I think I'm starting to understand that sentiment more and more as time goes on."

"Har," said Kaven, and turned to where a lean figure was coming down the walkway toward them.

Lieutenant Sutler had been starting to smile in greeting, but when he saw Kaven the smile promptly disappeared.

"Sutler, old buddy!"

"What the hell are _you _doing here?" Sutler's brow furrowed as he gave Kaven a quick once-over and found that he wasn't cuffed or bound in any way. "You're no prisoner...?"

"He's defected." Nova went to stand at the lieutenant's side, and turned back to the pilot. "After finding out that his admiral planned to have him trained as a Dark Jedi, he left the Empire."

The officer looked down at her. "You can't trust him. He's an imperial officer."

"So were _you_," Kaven said, and Sutler froze. "Right?"

"That was...a long time ago," the lieutenant replied stiffly. "A lifetime, in fact."

"And you were given the chance to start over," the pilot said. "_I _want to start over, Lieutenant. Please-let me."

Sutler took a deep breath. Instead of admonishing Kaven, he said to Nova, "Commander Beld is in a meeting at the moment, but I was to take your report when you'd arrived."

"There's a lot of it to take," Nova replied. She was looking surprised at the revelation that Sutler had once been with the Empire; apparently it wasn't something he mentioned often.

He nodded. "But I want to hear everything. The mission, first, and then-we'll talk later. Privately."

Kaven put his hand on Arfour's dome again. Sutler obviously wasn't going to accept him as easily as the Jedi had-and he had no reason to, either. From the rebel officer's point of view, he was still an imperial.

He was probably right about that.

The three Jedi and the droid began to follow Sutler, and the lieutenant glanced over his shoulder. "I'll want your report as well, Kaven, and I hope I'll find you more cooperative this time. ...You're bringing that with you?"

He meant Arfour. "Yes," Kaven replied.

"Hmm." Without another word, Sutler moved on.

* * *

They finished their reports in Sutler's office. There was a certain painstaking politeness in the way Erril and the lieutenant spoke to each other, but Nova could feel the animosity underneath it. She had expected Erril to be snarky, as he seemed to often be, but instead the pilot was quiet and never spoke out of turn as they reported their findings. He sat with Arfour at his elbow and listened to what she and Bal had to say. Sutler listened carefully to each Jedi's report, taking down the vital information he would relay to the commander later.

When it was over Erril left with Bal and Arfour, touching the droid's dome lightly as he went. Nova watched them go. It must have been a lonely three weeks, she reflected, if his only friend and companion had been the astromech, and that he should cling to it in such a way.

"You're absolutely certain that he's defected?" Sutler asked, in a low voice. "He seems...hesitant to be here."

She turned back to him. "It wasn't long ago that he found out his admiral's plans for him. After some time to adjust, I think he may accept his new life as part of the Jedi order."

"Hmm." The lieutenant gazed thoughtfully at the door. "I want to trust your judgement, but I...have my own misgivings about this. But I suppose ultimately it's a matter for the Jedi to decide."

"Did you serve together?" she asked, suddenly. "Is that how you know each other?"

Sutler seemed taken aback by the question, and replied, a little awkwardly, "No. I left the Empire not long after Alderaan was destroyed."

Lots of imperials had defected to the Rebellion after the Alderaan incident. Nova's eyes took on a faraway look at the mention of her home planet. She had been away on a trip with her parents when the Death Star had destroyed it, and for the first few years afterward she had nearly wished that she had been on it, too.

"I'm sorry," Sutler said, seeing her expression. "I should have recognized your accent...I should not have said it."

"It was ten years ago," she replied. "I've come to accept it." The destruction of Alderaan had given her the resolve to stand against the Empire, and she had joined the Rebel Alliance at the earliest opportunity.

"And," she added, "if Erril has defected, then I will accept him, too."

* * *

"So I was meaning to ask you something," Bal said, as he and Kaven walked across the grounds of the base. "Back at the mining facility, we'd caught a glimpse of you fighting that Reborn. Your lightsaber, and even the way you wield it, is different from ours."

"You've never seen a curved handle on a lightsaber before?"

"No. Why's it curved-decoration?"

"The way it's held and the way it strikes is different, and it suits my style."

"So which style is that? I've never seen it before. It's like fencing, almost, but really fast."

They came to a halt. "I'd never seen Nova's style, either, and the Reborn was using it. I imagine that it's one of the ones used by the Jedi academy," Kaven said. "And you, Bal...you use the style called, ah, 'slow'?"

The Zabrak snorted. "You know, it's called _strong, _not _slow._"

The ex-officer nodded. "All right, strong, it uses some elements of Form V...?" At Bal's blank look, he clarified, "Shien. The fifth classical lightsaber form of the Old Republic. It's a good defensive style, but better for a stronger being. It might suit you, but you'd need to fill in the holes."

"Fill in the _holes?_"

Kaven grinned wickedly. "Your variant is _too _slow. A Makashi-user would have you down six times before you'd gotten twenty seconds in."

"Oh, _really? _So the pure forms are better, in your humble opinion?"

"Yes." The pilot reached into his robes and took out his lightsaber. "I could show you."

"You're asking for a duel?"

"It could do us both some good. You teach me the academy's styles, I teach you some old tricks. How about it?" The human's smile faded. "And if those Reborn are going to attack, they'll come in handy."

"All right." Bal shrugged his robe off and tossed it into the grass, then moved into position and activated his lightsaber. Kaven took his off and tossed it aside as well, and his own blade flashed out as he brought his heels together.

He gave the Jedi a Makashi salute. "Here we go."

What followed was not a proper sparring match, as both men would stop every now and then to show a sequence of movements or explain a form to the other. There was neither a winner nor a loser; it was merely an exchange of tricks.

"You're good," the Zabrak said, after they had finished. He was breathing fast. "I thought you said you were a padawan."

"Talos wouldn't have it any other way," Kaven replied. "And I _am _a padawan-by default, anyway." He put his lightsaber away. "Well. I saw a lake near by on our way in, so if anyone needs me, I'll be there. Come on, Arfour."

"Always together," Bal murmured, watching them go.

* * *

It was nearly sunset when Nova made her way to the shore of the little lake in the woods. She caught a glimpse of a red-painted dome, guessed correctly that it was Arfour, and went to the shore. The astromech toodled at her.

"Still swimming, I suppose," she commented, and put a hand beside her mouth. "_Erril!_"

For a long moment there was no answer, and then Kaven broke the surface of the water, raking his hair back from his face. "Oh, hello," he said, when he saw her. "I don't suppose you'd care to join me?"

"Maybe some other time," she replied. "Bal and I are going to make our report to Commander Beld now. Lieutenant Sutler thought it best for you to stay behind this time, since you're not officially in the Jedi order."

"It makes sense. After all, it wouldn't do to have me mind-tricking the commander and bringing imperial forces down on your head, would it?"

"There's no call for that, Erril-you're barely two cycles defected, and the lieutenant is a cautious sort. While we're in the meeting, he wants to talk to you, so you should go to him at once."

Kaven's eyebrows raised. "_Sutler _wants to talk to me?" He paused, and then said under his breath, "Well, I hope this isn't about his ship..."

"Yes, so come out of there and come back to the base."

"Do you mind turning around, then?"

"Huh?"

"I'm nearly stark naked under here, and we don't know each other _that _well yet. Mind you, if you would rather watch..."

The Jedi flapped a hand at him and turned around. She heard him get out of the water, and listened to the rustle of cloth.

"Decent."

She turned back to him. He had put his trousers on, but was otherwise unclothed. He was leaning one elbow against a tree, running his fingers through his damp hair. He wasn't muscular, but he _did _have quite a nice build. There was a faint pink streak about four inches long on his right forearm-a scar, probably from some past fight. "Did Sutler ever mention _how _we met?" he asked.

"No, but I assume it was at the base on Infel."

"Mm. I spent a few days in interrogation with him before escaping...in his ship." Kaven gave her a devilish smile. "Maybe you can get him to tell you the story sometime. I don't think he's going to ever forgive me for that."

"You're not going to bring it up just to make him angry, are you?"

"Would I do that?"

"Yes."

The pilot lowered his arm. "I'll behave myself. And who knows, perhaps I'll even charm him."

"Hah, when _Mustafar _freezes over," he added to himself, pulling his garments on as they started back to the base.

* * *

Later on, he met Sutler out on a terrace overlooking the grounds of the base. The lieutenant was leaning against the railing with his arms crossed, his lean form outlined in the moonlight.

"I imagine you wanted to keep an eye on me while the Jedi are out," Kaven said. "You don't trust me at all, do you, Lieutenant?"

"No."

"You think I'm an imperial spy, in fact."

"Yes."

The pilot walked over to him. "And you're not at all nervous about being out here alone with me?"

Sutler looked at him coolly and said, "Do I have reason to be?"

"None at all."

"Good. Now, _why _have you defected?"

"You know why, Lieutenant. My admiral was planning to have me trained as a Dark Jedi."

"And you wouldn't have had a choice in that?"

"I-" Kaven paused. Sutler had him there; _would _he have been able to refuse the training, or would he have been forced into it? "-I don't know. But I don't want to find out the hard way."

"Is that all? There has to be another reason why you would join a government you had always hated."

Kaven's lips thinned. Sutler was reading him like a book. "I'm sick of being chased around the galaxy like a war criminal," he said. "I'm tired of being on the run, from both the Empire and the Republic. I thought I could trust my own admiral, and I was dumb enough to think that we had even been friends of a sort. I had thought that I could trust my own side. Well, I _can't._ You think I don't have any love for the Republic, Lieutenant, and you're correct. What I want is to be a Jedi. Just...a Jedi."

"Do you still have loyalty to the Empire?" the lieutenant asked.

The pilot turned on him. "Do _you_!"

"Answer me."

"I don't _know, _all right? I feel like I've been wearing rose-tinted glasses that just got torn off," Kaven snapped. "No! I don't know who I'm loyal to, I _don't _know what I'm doing, and I've just left behind the only life I'd _ever _known and I'm feeling a bit torn up over it! Maybe _you _felt the same way when you went over to the Rebellion-and I hope someone cross-examined you about it as well!"

A muscle went in Sutler's cheek. "How did you know that I had been an imperial officer? _How?_"

"Old habits die hard," the pilot growled. "Your bearing, your mannerisms, your interrogation technique. Take your Coruscanti accent into account and it all comes clear." Something a little Twi'lek pirate had said once came back to him, and he added, "It's like police out of uniform."

He turned away, and looked out over the long, dark forest that lay to the west. A strong sense of déjà vu came over him at the sight of it, though he had never been to Sonalia before. He stared down at the forest, and then pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What is it?" Sutler asked.

"Headache," Kaven lied. "I think I'd better just go to bed. It's been a long, _long _day."

The Republic officer considered him for a heartbeat, and then said curtly, "Good night."

Kaven echoed the sentiment, and left the terrace.

* * *

As the pilot was climbing into bed on Sonalia, hundreds of light-years away Lieutenant Verdan and Madeen were finishing a transmission to Admiral Makar.

"Good luck, gentlemen," said the admiral, and his holographic form dissipated.

Verdan put the holoprojector away and sighed. "Entralla. Of all the places in this galaxy to meet a contact, it had to be there."

"What's so bad about Entralla?" Madeen asked as she began to enter the hyperspace coordinates. They were in the Lobstrosity and well out of earshot of the remaining Stormtroopers, who were bunking in the 'visitors' quarters'-the cargo hold. "I've been there. It's an okay place."

"I was born there."

"Bad memories?"

The lieutenant sat back with his arms crossed. "I lied about my age to join the military and get out of there." The stars outside began to stream.

Madeen considered. Verdan seemed in his late twenties, but as far as she could tell, he was younger than her; maybe twenty-two. "How old were you?"

"Fifteen. I barely convinced the recruitment officer that I was old enough." He touched the scar on his cheek with a gloved finger. "I was lucky. Most of the other recruits that time were young, too."

The words _that time _did not fall on deaf ears. The Twi'lek very deliberately did not ask what would have made someone like Verdan want so badly to leave.

Perhaps Verdan noticed the black hole beginning to open, and drew it closed again. "What sort of thing is this contact going to have for us that will let us capture a Jedi?" he wondered aloud. "According to the admiral's own contacts, Kaven was seen with two other Jedi from the Republic's academy. He may be hostile this time. Certainly the other two will be."

"There are rumours of Dark Jedi working for the Empire. Maybe one of them..."

"Absolutely not," the lieutenant said, with surprising conviction. "Not _this _Empire."

Madeen gave him a curious look. "What other Empire _is _there?" she asked, one corner of her mouth lifting.

"Oh-I meant this _part _of the Empire," Verdan replied. "Admiral Makar refuses to deal with Dark Jedi. He has...views about them. There are others who feel the same way, so our contact could be one of those."

The bounty hunter's look didn't change as she turned back to the controls. "There's a lot you know that I don't, V."

The imperial officer just shrugged.

* * *

They emerged from hyperspace several hours later over Entralla, and when they landed in Nexus City they were rather surprised to see an imperial officer in a black uniform waiting for them on the pad below, along with a couple of Stormtroopers. They had expected the contact to be a civilian of sorts, possibly a mercenary.

"You must be Lieutenant Verdan and the bounty hunter Madeen," the officer said, once they had closed with him. He was clean-shaven and neat, somewhere in his mid-twenties. "I'm your contact. My name is Lieutenant Harker, and I am to take you to where you can pick up your supplies."

"What _are _our supplies?" Verdan asked.

"All in good time, sir," said Harker. "I have a shuttle waiting nearby. Your men may accompany us as well, though I am not at liberty to say _where _we are going."

"I understand." Verdan turned and gestured to his men to follow as they started after Lieutenant Harker and _his _men-roughly speaking, he amended, seeing now that both of the Stormtroopers accompanying their contact were female. "What?" he asked, seeing that Madeen was shooting him a look out of the corner of her eye.

"We're involved in an imperial conspiracy, aren't we."

"I wouldn't worry," he said. "It's a fairly benevolent one."

* * *

When it was time to leave Sonalia the next day, Kaven and Nova found Bal playing chess with Arfour, who was apparently winning. As they approached the Zabrak looked up, and then rose. "Ready to leave?"

There was a rude noise from the droid, and Bal turned back to it. "I am _not _just trying to get out of it!" he said. "I accept that I'm losing...this time."

"Your droid has far too much personality," he murmured to Kaven, as he moved past the pilot to the ship he and Nova shared.

"Far too much...? Who was just playing chess with him, then?" Arfour came wheeling over to him, and Kaven patted it on the dome. "Well, come on, then. Next stop, Yavin IV."

"Most beings give their droids a memory wipe every now and then to stop them growing their own personalities," Nova remarked, as the droid plugged itself into Kaven's Starfighter.

"Perish the thought. I like Arfour the way he is."

"You _do _have a few things in common."

Kaven climbed into his ship, and the Jedi boarded theirs. They rose and shot into space. Bal glanced out to where the pilot was just visible in his Starfighter, having some sort of exchange with the astromech. "If that weren't a droid, I would say it's in love with him or something."

Nova chuckled. "That's a wild exaggeration."

"Say what you will, but that's one loyal little droid."

* * *

Yavin IV was a world of thick vegetation and forest, and Kaven could see a stone temple complex jutting out of the canopy as they flew in. He followed Bal and Nova to the landing area and touched down.

He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, then raised the canopy and climbed down. "So, this is your academy..."

"It's not the Jedi temple of Coruscant, but it's home," Bal said with a smile, looking up at the building with his hands on his hips. "We should go see Master Skywalker right away. He'd be interested in meeting you, Erril. Knights of the Old Republic don't crop up very often."

"Master...Skywalker." Kaven's voice sounded a bit faint to his own ears. "_Luke _Skywalker."

"Yes, he started the academy not long after the Battle of Endor."

"The leader of Rogue Squadron. The hero of-of the Battle of Yavin." Kaven's stomach was starting to ache. "The pilot who destroyed the Death Star."

"I'm not surprised you know his name," Bal replied. "But I'd be surprised if you _didn't. _He's the Republic's best pilot, and he was real famous in the Rebellion. Are you all right, Erril?"

"Fine. So we're...ah...going to go meet him?"

Nova put a hand on his shoulder concernedly. "You're not feeling ill?"

"I'm just feeling a little blown over," Kaven replied. They didn't know the part of his history that had involved the Death Star. "I hadn't thought about _who _the leader of the academy might be."

"Well, don't worry about it," the Zabrak told him. "Fame hasn't gone to his head. And who knows-you're both pilots, you'll probably get along famously."

There came a toodle from behind them. "No, Arfour," Kaven said without turning, "Just...stay here and visit with the other astromechs."

Arfour's reply sounded a little hurt, and it wheeled back to the ship. Bal nudged his partner and presented a hand in a manner that clearly said, _I told you so. _Nova just shrugged.

They started off down the walkway with the pilot trailing along behind them, silent and withdrawn.

* * *

It wasn't long before they nudged Kaven in to where the head of the academy was waiting for him, and when he turned around he got his first look at Luke Skywalker.

The Jedi Master might have been about thirty, but his boyish face and tousled blonde hair made him seem a bit younger than that. Unlike his robed students he wore a sombre black shirt and trousers, but, like them, a lightsaber hung at his hip.

"You must be Erril Kaven," Luke said as he approached him. "Nova and Bal sent a transmission saying that they were bringing a prospective student back with them."

Kaven nodded. "Yes," he said awkwardly. "I was wanting to join the academy."

"And you're welcome to study here. They mentioned that your master was of the Old Republic."

"Talos? He used Old Republic ways, but _his _master had been a part of the old Jedi order. I'm not sure of what your ways are here, but he mentioned that they might be different," the ex-officer answered, feeling a little surreal.

"Yes. Most of the old order's records had been destroyed at the end of the Clone Wars, and during the Empire's rule after that. We've been recovering what we can," Luke replied. Kaven had expected the head of the new Jedi order to be a bit more jaded, but this man seemed without guile, open and honest. "There aren't many Jedi left who know anything about the Old Republic, much less firsthand," the Jedi Master added, "so I was looking forward to meeting you in person."

Kaven hesitated, and then said, "I've wanted to meet you as well, Master Skywalker."

* * *

For a long time after that they talked, mostly about what Kaven had learned under Talos, and compared notes on the old order and the new. Now it was hours later and the pilot stood at the window of the room he had been given, staring out at the jungle canopy. The sun was beginning to set, filling the room with high light.

He had declined spending the remainder of the evening with Nova and Bal, or even with Arfour, feeling desperately like he needed some time to himself.

He hadn't lied when he had told the Jedi Master that he had wanted to meet him; he had been wanting to meet the one who had destroyed the Death Star for a long time indeed-in ship-to-ship combat. Now that he _had _finally met the leader of Rogue Squadron, he felt miserable. He had been set to hate him, but Luke Skywalker...

...was likeable. The rebel pilot was down-to-earth and affable and honest, and against all sensibilities Kaven found that he _liked _the man. That was why he now felt miserable, because he was supposed to hate him and, stars, he _wanted _to, he _wanted _to hate the man that had taken his brother away by destroying the Death Star, but he couldn't help but like him instead, and the pain of that knowledge was killing him.

He put his hands on the sill, his breath hitching. _What did you expect, you idiot? _he thought angrily. _Some cackling mad bastard? The only Sith were on __**your **__side._

He squeezed his eyes shut, the turmoil and anger and misery inside him becoming a nearly physical pain, and his fingers tightened on the sill. He wanted to scream, to let all the poison out in a destructive blast, and perhaps he would have if he hadn't known that it would not help anything.

After a while he realized that his fingers were hurting, and slowly relaxed his grip on the stones. He stepped back from the window and wiped his eyes with the heel of one hand. It came away wet. He stared down at his hand.

_It's not going to __**be **__alright, is it? _he thought.

* * *

"Where are we?" Madeen asked, as they walked toward the imperial base poking above the treeline. The planet they had landed on was thick with vegetation, but she could recognize none of it. It was daylight, but two great moons were visible in the sky like ghosts, one red, the other white.

"I don't know," Lieutenant Verdan answered. "But I have the feeling they're not going to tell us, either."

"Right this way, gentlemen," Lieutenant Harker said, walking briskly ahead of them. The Stormtroopers had stayed behind with the two that had accompanied Harker, and now it was only the three of them. They entered the main building complex, and followed the imperial officer down a series of twisting corridors before finally emerging in a conservatory filled with trees and jungle plants of all sorts. They were different from the ones outside the base, perhaps transplanted from a different planet. "Come inside. Your, ah, equipment is in here."

Looking puzzled, they went inside, glancing every which way. At a noise Lieutenant Verdan looked up, and then promptly said, "The hell is _that _thing?"

The creature he was looking at was clinging with its little claws to the branches of a tree. It was vaguely salamanderish and about the length of his arm, yellow, with an elongated snout and four beady black eyes.

"That," said Harker, "Is an ysalamir. A creature native to Myrkr."

Madeen was gazing up at it as well. "It's cute," she decided at last.

Verdan put a hand on his hip. "Sure, in an ugly little dog kind of way," he said. "But what does it have to do with capturing a Jedi?"

Lieutenant Harker smiled. "Ysalamiri have a very special and possibly unique ability-they can push back the Force." The younger man's eyes widened, and Harker continued, "We're not certain how this can be, but what we do know is that the Force cannot be manipulated at all within a bubble around them, which may extend to nearly ten metres. We may thank the late Grand Admiral Thrawn for this knowledge," he added.

The officer and the bounty hunter exchanged a look, and Madeen grinned lopsidedly. "V, this is just about perfect," she said.

Verdan looked up at the ysalamir again. "All right, so we put it in a cage and take it with us, and it'll keep Kaven and the Jedi from using their powers on us?"

"Oh, no," Harker interjected. "If they're just taken from their trees, they'll die. They need a steady source of nourishment to suck through their claws-which is why they cling to the trees so. You'll be wearing a special device for it to draw from, which will be strapped to your back."

"So it'll be riding on my back?" A look of concern came over Madeen's face. "It won't latch onto one of my lekku and start sucking my blood by accident, will it?"

Their contact shook his head. "No, it won't detach its claws once it's on the device. You have nothing to worry about."

"Good."

Harker folded his hands behind his back. "Since you're fighting Jedi, it will be necessary to counteract their lightsabers as well. I'm to give you cortosis bracers for that," he told them. "In the meantime, say hello to your new companion. His name is Tokay, and he'll be ready to go within the hour."

After the officer had left, Madeen threw an arm around her companion's shoulders, pumping a fist in exultation. "This is great!"

Unexpectedly, Verdan reciprocated, smiling in a quiet sort of way as he did so. "We'll have him this time."

* * *

The sun rose on Yavin IV.

Bal and Nova were walking down the hall toward Kaven's room when they caught sight of Arfour in the corridor. The astromech was positioned in front of the pilot's door and was tapping at it with a pincer, and when it didn't open the droid let out a frustrated toodle.

"Now what's this all about?" Bal asked. "He won't let you in?"

"I can _feel _him in there," Nova said, raising an eyebrow in puzzlement. She went to the door and rapped on it. "Erril? Are you decent?" There was no answer. "Well, I'm coming in anyway," she called, and waved the door open. Before either Jedi could enter, Arfour shot in.

Kaven was sitting cross-legged on the bed, across from the window, and was staring out into space with his chin in his hands and a vacant expression on his face. He didn't acknowledge their entry, and did not even move until the astromech wheeled out in front of him, extended the pincer, and pinched his arm.

The pilot came to life. "Ouch! Arfour! What was that for?" He rubbed his arm. The droid gave him a severe talking-to then, all via bleeps and bloops. Kaven looked over, and jumped when he saw the Jedi. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to see that you were light-years away," the Zabrak replied. He studied the human. "You look terrible. Didn't you sleep at all?"

"Well, I had to have fallen asleep at some point," Kaven replied with a shrug. His eyes were a little red, and he seemed tired. He looked back to his droid, and stroked its dome comfortingly. "I probably nodded off meditating."

Nova watched the two of them. "You've been out of sorts since arriving," she said. "And just now, you seemed shut in on yourself. That was _not _meditation."

The pilot looked uncomfortable. "I just had a lot on my mind." He rubbed his face with the heel of one hand and rose from the bed, stretching. He was still in his robes. "There's something about this place I'm not entirely fond of," he then said. "I didn't notice it when we arrived, and it's hardly noticeable even now, but there's...something in the undercurrents of this place. Not in the Jedi, but the place. Am I just dreaming?"

The Jedi considered, and then each nodded in agreement. "I noticed it, too," the young woman replied. "It wasn't here before. Something dark."

Kaven appeared to have an idea. "Hey. Why don't we go to some other planet for our training-someplace peaceful, where we can concentrate on the Force and not...this?" He spread his hands. "I want to hear more about Jedi ways, and I _am _having some difficulty staying focused here." He smiled, hopefully. "Too many distractions."

Nova opened her mouth to say _Jedi must learn to focus despite distractions, _but shut it again when she caught a sense of Kaven's emotions, tangled and brittle. Whatever was going on with the pilot, it really was doing him no good to be at the academy proper.

She considered. If they got him off-planet and relaxed, they could find out what was happening with him. "Let's go back to Sonalia," she decided.

"Sounds good," Kaven said, too quickly, and she realized that he would have agreed even if she had suggested Tatooine or Hoth. "Sonalia-wonderful place. Lakes... forests... mountains... wildlife of some sort..."

"...Picking fights with Sutler..." Bal muttered under his breath.

"I'll be good."

"Yes, please try not to fight with him," Nova added. "He doesn't seem well disposed towards you as it is."

"Tell me about it."

"Nova, on the other hand..." Bal began.

"...has never fought with him in her life," the female Jedi finished. "And neither have you, Bal. Well, if we're going to go through training off-planet, we ought to get ready to go. If you can stand staying another night, Erril, I'd rather leave tomorrow than today."

Kaven nodded. "As you like. Thank you."

The young woman nodded and left. Bal went to follow her, and then stopped in the doorway. He turned back to Kaven.

"Is that droid in love with you?" he demanded.

The pilot looked to Arfour, then back to the Zabrak. "Head over heels," he said, mildly. He turned and smiled down at the astromech. "Actually, I think his primary programming might involve intense loyalty to his owner." Arfour bleeped. "Or something like that. I'm learning to understand him outside the ship, though, and he does seem to like me quite apart from that."

The Jedi rubbed his head. "How long has it been since h-it got a memory wipe?"

"Probably thirty-odd years. He was with a Jedi during the Clone Wars."

"Plenty of time to develop quirks."

"Yes." Kaven put a hand on his droid's dome. "And I like every one of them."

* * *

The bracers snapped into place, and Lieutenant Verdan held up an arm to have a better look at one. It wasn't especially ornate, but it wasn't plain, either, with some geometric pattern having been worked into the metal. At his side Madeen was looking over the pair she wore, with satisfaction.

"When it comes into contact with it, Kaven's lightsaber will short out for several minutes," Lieutenant Harker said. "Between five and ten minutes is a safe guess. It should be long enough for you to capture him."

"Kaven's familiar with cortosis," the scar-faced officer said, still looking at his bracers. "If he sees these, he might recognize the metal and just keep his distance."

"These are spare enough to be worn beneath the sleeves," the other man replied. "As long as you keep them hidden, there should be no problems."

Madeen turned her head to look at Tokay, who was strapped across her shoulders with his claws sunk into the pipes of the backpack-like device she wore. The ysalamir looked back at her. "Fighting Jedi with you on my back could be dangerous," she murmured to it, patting its head. If the creature was killed, they would be vulnerable again. With the plan that Harker had outlined to them to bring the Jedi running, it would essentially be the bounty hunter and the imperial officer against three Jedi. They needed every advantage they could get.

"I'll handle Kaven," Verdan said. Stormtroopers' combat training was more inclusive than the specialized training of pilots and officers. "If I can get past that lightsaber, I can take him down."

Harker nodded. "We have your file, Lieutenant, and it's very impressive." Madeen was admiring her bracers again, so their contact looked directly at Verdan and mouthed, _Capture Kaven, and you might be transferred to the Core. _Then he gave him an enigmatic smile and nodded ever so slightly.

The Stormtrooper officer, who could read lips, nodded back understandingly.

* * *

The three Jedi had surprised Sutler a bit by returning to Sonalia, but the lieutenant did not seem especially displeased by that, a fact which spoke volumes to Kaven.

That had been a few days ago. He had sparred often with Bal and occasionally with Nova, and the Zabrak was embracing the style of Shien, declaring it to be right up his alley. The three spent most of their time away from the base in their discussions and training, but passed the nights there. Currently it was morning and they were up on one of the terraces, standing at the rails in conversation.

"Something good done for despicable purposes would be spoiled by the intent-and not a really good thing at all," Bal said, in response to their discussion of the moment.

"No, it would be better to weigh the outcome against the intent," Kaven replied. "It's the ends that really matter."

"That, I would disagree with," Sutler said idly, from where he was sitting with his legs crossed, reading something in a datapad. He hadn't spoken until now, but he had apparently been half listening as he worked. "Nothing good will come out of despicable acts."

Kaven thought of the Empire, bringing order to the galaxy even if it meant throttling it at times, and didn't answer. He leaned an elbow on the rail, half-listening to the Jedi, and his thoughts gradually drifted to something less tangled.

With thoughts of Roon, Jan, and the others in mind, he asked, "How does the Jedi order view love these days?"

The soft click of buttons from Sutler did not stop, but there was an expectant air that told him the man was now more than half-listening. Kaven looked over at the two Jedi. "Well?" he asked. "Does attachment lead to the dark side-or is it all right? Can a Jedi have a special someone these days, or does he have to go without?"

"We're still deciding," Nova said, after some thought. She shrugged. "There's not really a set opinion on that yet."

"Hmm..."

"I was under the impression that the Jedi frowned on that," Sutler said.

Kaven turned to him with the beginnings of a wicked smile. "Relieved to hear it's all right, Lieutenant?"

"Are _you_? You were the one that asked, not me."

"Quite," the pilot replied, tucking his hands in his sleeves. "I do want to be free to care." Now the wicked smile did come. "Having it forbidden would just make it all the more appealing."

Before Sutler could reply, the door to the terrace opened and a young officer walked in. It was Lieutenant Aeron. "Pardon me," he said. "But we've just received a transmission from our fleet. There are rumours of the Reborn Dark Jedi being, er, generated, on the third planet of the Ioun system. Given your recent encounter with one, the commander wishes to send you on a reconnaissance mission to see whether it's true or not."

"'Generated,'" Bal said to himself. "That makes sense. They did feel artificial."

Kaven raised an eyebrow. "Ioun? Never heard of it."

"We ought to go speak to the commander about this," Nova said. "We'd better listen to that transmission ourselves."

* * *

The transmission was fairly broken, but it was still basically understandable. As the Jedi listened carefully to it they heard, between the snap and crackle of static, "_...Reborn faction...generating Dark Jedi, possibly...Valley...on Ioun...discovered. ...the Reborn will...New Empire. Eliminate all..._"

It dissolved. Commander Beld said, "The rest of the message was unintelligible. Too much interference in the area."

"New Empire?" Bal asked. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Let's hope it's just indigestion," Kaven told him. "Where is Ioun, Commander? I've never heard of it, and I thought I knew all of the Empire's remaining territories."

"Ioun is on the fringes of the unknown regions beyond Yaga Minor and Muunilist. To those few who knew it, it was thought to be uninhabited. But a survey team caught some radio activity in the area recently-none of the messages save for this one were decoded successfully." Beld folded his hands behind his back. "We're not certain of this 'New Empire' business, but it's not the first time we've heard the term. However, this _is _the first time we've heard it in conjunction with the Reborn, and it doesn't sound good at all."

"What it sounds like is an army of Dark Jedi getting ready to overrun the Republic," Bal replied.

Kaven put a hand to his chin. _New Empire, _he thought, and the words sent a feeling of déjà vu washing over him. He thought hard, but couldn't come up with anything. Still, he felt as if he ought to know something about this-anything about this-but he didn't.

"Precisely," Beld said, and Kaven looked up again, "which is why I want you three to go there and check it out. Your primary objective is to confirm whether or not Ioun is the site where the Reborn are generating or recruiting their Dark Jedi. If it _is _true, then you are to find out how these Dark Jedi are being made, and if possible, put a stop to it."

The Jedi nodded. "Yes, sir," they said.

* * *

"You're going, then?" Sutler asked later, as the three were preparing to leave.

Nova nodded.

"You never stay long in one place, do you." As if aware of how he sounded, the lieutenant then straightened and added, "Well, I wish you luck. May the Force be with you."

"And with you," she returned. "We'll return once we've seen to the mission."

"Yes..." Sutler murmured, as they lifted off. "Do return."

* * *

After the Jedi had left the planet, Lieutenant Aeron left the base and made his transmission, using his own private holoprojector. "Good day, Lieutenant Harker," the intelligence agent said in greeting, once the image of his contact had coalesced. "The transmission was received and decoded, and I've got to applaud its wording. Commander Beld has sent the Jedi Knights Nova Trev, Bal Kodar, and Erril Kaven to investigate, but no soldiers are accompanying them. They've just left for Ioun now."

"We'll be ready for them. They can do us a favour by getting rid of our unwelcome allies first."

"Good. In the meantime, I have a few other transmissions to make. Give my regards to the New Empire for me," Aeron said.

Harker smiled. "Of course, Lieutenant."

* * *

"This place looks deserted," Kaven said over the channel, after they had entered Ioun's atmosphere and were speeding over the landscape. This area was comprised mostly of scrubland and coniferous forest. "I can sense something here-but not in great amounts."

"_Hard to see what the Remnant would want with a scrubby little place like this,_"Bal commented. "_This isn't even a strategic location. It's just...here._"

"There's nothing even indicating imperial presence here. No bunkers, no patrols, no equipment...nothing."

"_There's a military base coming up soon. We'll land a few clicks away and proceed on foot._"

"Right." Kaven could see it now, and swung down for a landing, looking for a suitable place. _Why have I got such an odd feeling about this place? _he wondered. _Not a _bad _one, exactly, but a sort of expectant one. I'm not sure what to think._

They landed. "Arfour-stay here and guard the ships," he said, and there was an affirmative bleep from the droid.

The three Jedi set off. From behind a copse of trees, a probe droid lifted up from where it had been watching them and accelerated toward the base.

* * *

"They're here," Lieutenant Harker said to Verdan and Madeen, who rose to their feet. "I'll be in the control room, coordinating what I can." His voice lowered. "Let them deal with those Reborn pests before you engage them yourself." Then he added, in an ordinary tone, "Good luck, of course."

The Twi'lek snuck a sideways look at her partner after Harker had left. "Reborn _pests_, huh? Seems like this whole faction's not a fan of that one. Are you gonna tell me what's going on at some point in your life, V?"

The imperial officer leaned closer. "Once we have Kaven," he whispered.

* * *

The Jedi had just gotten onto the grounds of the base proper when they felt it-that twisted, dark feeling that the Reborn at the Share Installation had given off.

"Think we've just confirmed those rumours?" Bal drew his lightsaber, and the others followed suit.

"Let's hope there aren't too many of them," Nova replied. A noise caught their attention and they turned to see the door to the hangar sliding open. Two figures in hooded orange tunics walked out, heading straight for them. The Reborn ignited their lightsabers as they drew closer, and the Jedi's own hissed out gold, blue, and green.

"We were waiting for you, Jedi," one of the Reborn said. Both he and his partner were young, and both had that odd lifelessness in their eyes that the Dark Jedi at the Share Installation had also exhibited.

"Yeah?" Kaven asked. "Though you may want to invite a friend-this is hardly fair."

The Dark Jedi spread out.

"We were about to say-" the first began.

"-the same thing to you," the second finished.

They leapt at the Jedi then, and immediately clashed with Bal and Nova, who had been standing on either side of Kaven. The air filled with the clash of lightsabers. Bal had managed to surprise his Reborn with a sudden switch to Shien, and was currently at an advantage, pressing the man back under a barrage of blows. Kaven moved to aid Nova. The Dark Jedi growled and moved to engage the both of them, parrying both of their slashes and vaulting over their heads to attack from behind.

Talos had been skilled at all of the classical forms, and he had often done such a thing during their lessons, especially when training Kaven in the ways of Ataru. The Jedi reacted quickly, and their opponent quickly found himself losing ground. He was fast, though, and certainly more skilled than the fellow at the Share Installation had been. He was nearly a knight's equivalent.

"Where-are you all-_coming _from?" Bal grunted, catching his Dark Jedi's blade across his own.

In response the Reborn just laughed, broke the grapple, and struck out with snakish speed. The Zabrak shouted in pain. Taking the Jedi's moment of distraction to his advantage, the youth drew his lightsaber back for a killing blow.

The final slash never came, however, as karma came around in the form of a Force-push from Nova that sent the Reborn flying. Kaven himself held their opponent's attention, and as the female Jedi went running over to her partner, the ex-officer ran the Reborn through. The Dark Jedi crumpled.

"I have the feeling that's not going to be the last," Kaven muttered, retracting his blade. He turned in time to see Bal cut the other Reborn down with a two-handed blow, and then walked over to them. "Where did he get you?" he inquired of the alien, who drew a finger across his upper chest.

"He was probably aiming to get my head off," Bal said. "But he just wasn't close enough, thank the Force...I'll have a good scar out of it, though."

"You're fine to continue?" Nova asked.

"Yes. Just give me a moment to heal it up a bit, and then we'll keep on."

* * *

In an upper storey of the base, a Stormtrooper sergeant watched as the Jedi fought and killed the Reborn. After the big Zabrak had finished off the second of the Dark Jedi, the trooper opened his comlink and said, "Affirmative, Lieutenant. The Reborn are dead...no, there were no Jedi casualties. They seem to be all right." He listened to the response. "Yes, I can see Kaven from here. Did you want me to shoot the others? ...Yes, sir. They're heading into the hangar now."

He drew the blaster rifle from his holster and nodded. "Roger that. My men and I will be in position."

* * *

"Looks deserted," the female Jedi commented, regarding the empty corridors with suspicion. "Not even a mouse droid to speak of. _Where _are all the personnel?"

There was the sound of a door hissing shut far behind them, and a peculiar beep. "I know _that _sound," Kaven said. "That was the hangar door being sealed shut. This is no phantom base."

Bal moved into a ready position, his lightsaber held protectively before him. "They'll probably start coming out of the walls now..."

The pilot regarded the walls, which completely failed to attack them, and said mildly, "You weren't watching a horror holo before we came, were you?"

Bal shot him a dirty look. Kaven presented a hand in the direction of the walls and arched an eyebrow. "Well, the troopers and the officers have to be _somewhere_, and they'll want to take us by surprise."

"But now you've gone and given away the whole plan," Kaven said, with an arch little smile.

"Quiet, you two. I sense something." Nova was standing still, and she appeared to be listening. "There _are _people in this base. Nearby."

"And coming up right behind us," Kaven added, all of his teasing gone as he glanced over his shoulder. "Rather a lot of Stormtroopers, by the sounds of things. We should keep moving."

They set off at a run.

* * *

From the control room, Lieutenant Harker and his assistants issued orders to the base personnel and opened or sealed off corridors and wings as they saw fit, gently herding the Jedi along and keeping a close watch on the security cameras. All the while, the squad of Stormtroopers remained close behind the Jedi, discouraging them from stopping to reconsider things. Like the other officers of his particular faction, Harker was aware that Force-users could sense life forms, and kept the areas he wanted them to go clear, while ordering troopers into the places he didn't want them returning.

"Lock 4B," he said, "But make sure corridor 6B is unlocked."

"Ah, you mean to use the security features...?"

"Yes..."

* * *

"We haven't even seen anyone yet," Bal muttered. They had entered the corridor at a straight run, buying themselves some time before the Stormtroopers got there.

"This is ridiculous," Kaven added. He was beginning to pace up and down. "You know what, we're probably being steered around." He turned to face his partners. "I say we go back the way we came, before we go running into a dead end-"

A barrier suddenly came to life in the corridor between them, cutting him off from the other two.

"-oh, _not _good," he finished, and ignited his lightsaber as he turned around, waiting for imperials to come rushing out of the opposite end of the corridor.

"Erril!"

Kaven looked over his shoulder. "We've been had," he said quietly. "All this time, we've been had." He took a deep breath. "I can feel them coming around on this side now...I suppose _I'm _what they want...I'll do my best, but I don't know how long I can hold out."

"Erril, _don't _give up!" Nova ordered. "We'll get this barrier off-just hang on as long as you can!"

"Oh, I _won't _go down easily." The pilot tightened his grip on his lightsaber. "Head for the nearest control room-you should be able to shut off these barriers from there." A pair of Stormtroopers came around the bend in the corridor and took up position there, raising their blaster rifles.

"Erril..." Bal nodded. "May the Force be with you."

Kaven returned the nod. "And with you. Go."

He heard them flee, and watched the troopers through narrowed eyes. _Come on. What are you waiting for?_

The Stormtroopers didn't move. For what felt like an eternity, they simply stood with their weapons ready, waiting for the Jedi to make the first move.

_Very well._

Suddenly feeling sure that Bal and Nova were not going to make it to the control room, he began to advance with his lightsaber levelled.

As he approached, the troopers shifted uneasily, but a man's voice then said, "Hold your fire."

Kaven halted. He _knew _that voice.

His eyes widened as Lieutenant Verdan walked around the bend, smooth and unruffled in his black uniform, followed closely by Madeen. The bounty hunter wore an unabashed grin, and some sort of weird yellow creature was lying draped across her shoulders.

"Hiya, flyboy," the Twi'lek said. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Erril Kaven," said Verdan. "Surrender, or we take you by force."

"_You set us up for this!_" Kaven thundered. "There _are _no bloody Reborn being made here!"

"Yes, and the lot of you have been very cooperative." The imperial officer held up a hand. "Lay down your weapon." When Kaven didn't move, his eyes narrowed. "I said, _put it down._"

"No." Kaven held it tightly. "No. I won't go with you-I won't! And if I die here-" He drew a hand back, calling on the Force. "-I die a Jedi." He let loose with a blast that should have blown them from their feet and cracked the wall behind them.

Instead, nothing happened.

A look of slight panic came over Kaven's face. "Wh...what?" He tried again, with the same results. "What's happening-what have you done!"

Madeen drew her blaster. Lieutenant Verdan removed his hat and handed it to her, running a hand through his black hair as he walked toward Kaven.

The pilot actually took a step back then, holding his lightsaber before him protectively. _What kind of loony officer comes at a Jedi unarmed! _He wondered, and within a second the answering thought came: _One with advanced combat training, that's what._

He swung the lightsaber, and with a snap of his reflexes Verdan brought his arm up.

The energy blade connected solidly with the officer's forearm, and shorted out.

Kaven realized what had happened. "Cor-" Verdan's fist abruptly collided with his cheek, and he half spun with the force of the blow. He felt the lieutenant's fingers close around his wrists, and then he was being slammed face-first into the wall with his arms twisted up behind him.

"Cortosis?" The officer whispered helpfully, leaning in close.

"Yeah. That would be it," Kaven answered, and cracked him in the face with the back of his head. The imperial officer took a step back, one hand rising, and the Jedi skirted around behind him, intent on getting him into a headlock. Before he could get an arm around his neck, Verdan seized his arm and flipped him over his shoulder. The room became a quick whirl of wall and ceiling, and then Kaven's breath abruptly rushed out of him as he hit the floor.

Verdan was on top of him immediately, straddling his hips and pinning his wrists. "Let-go-of-that-lightsaber!" the lieutenant ordered, banging Kaven's hand on the floor with each word.

Kaven tried to throw him off, with a grunt of effort, but failed and collapsed back, panting. He tried to ignite his lightsaber again, but it was still nonoperational and would continue to be for the next few minutes. Lips pressed together tightly, the imperial officer tore it from his fingers and threw it down the corridor, where Madeen picked it up. Kaven promptly punched Verdan in the stomach, and when the officer bent a little from the blow, the pilot grabbed his wrist and tried to roll over, to get on top of him, but he found that he couldn't get the lieutenant off-balance enough to complete the move.

Verdan forced his wrists down again. "Surrender."

The pilot kicked and cursed and struggled beneath him, and tried to call on the Force, but it wouldn't work here. "_How have you done this to me!_"he demanded. They had tricked him and somehow taken his powers from him, and they would now take him prisoner and have his newfound friends shot as well.

With a surge of strength that was born of anger, he suddenly forced Verdan back, intending to shove the officer off of him. With reflexes honed in countless hours of combat training the lieutenant rolled with it, and threw the Jedi over on his face. When Kaven started to rise, Verdan hit him over the head with something hard.

* * *

"This base has really come alive now-they must have been waiting for us all along!" Bal's lightsaber moved frantically as he deflected a round of blaster bolts from the troopers in pursuit. If he or Nova had been alone, they would have been killed when the Stormtroopers had first appeared, but together they had managed to defend themselves and retreat.

They backed away into an office. "We're never going to get to that control room in time," the Zabrak muttered.

Nova finished sealing the door shut and backed off, looking despondent. "We played right into it," she said. She fell into a chair.

"They were planning this for a while." Bal turned to her, then stood bolt upright, his eyes widening. "Nova-! Look, the window!"

The human spun in time to see a group of people heading down the corridor outside. There was an officer with a scar on his cheek, an athletic-looking Twi'lek, and a pair of Stormtroopers who bore an unconscious Kaven between them. The pilot's head hung down and his hair had fallen into his eyes, but in the moment they caught a glimpse of him they saw that there was blood on his lip.

As the entourage passed by Nova leapt at the window, and the muffled thud of her palms made the officer and the Twi'lek look over at them.

"Let him go!" the Jedi shouted.

The officer nodded to his men, and his lips formed the words, _To the airfield, on the double. _Nova ignited her lightsaber. Surprisingly, the officer moved protectively to the back of the group as they started away, urging his men to hurry up. He looked over his shoulder as he trotted away, seeing that the Jedi had begun to cut through the window.

* * *

"This is cutting it a little close, V," Madeen muttered as they hurried away, looking over her shoulder and seeing the tip of a green lightsaber slicing through the glass. A young Jedi woman with brown hair jumped out into the corridor. A big Zabrak followed, a blue lightsaber flashing in his hand.

"Don't come any closer," Verdan warned, his blaster in hand as he walked backwards. The Jedi began to advance, but then stopped dead when a barrier flicked on between them. _Thank you very much, Harker, _he thought.

He turned back to the group, not breaking stride once. "Come on. We need to get off-planet as quickly as possible."

* * *

At Harker's side an officer laughed. "Consider this mission a success."

"Not until those other Jedi have been run off the base," the lieutenant replied, and opened his comlink. "New orders to all personnel: Get rid of those Jedi, but leave at least one of them alive. Once they're off the base and to their ships, let them go."

* * *

It was not long before Bal and Nova were running at full tilt over the grounds of the base, dodging shots from Stormtroopers and sentry droids alike. Their cloaks were ragged by now, full of holes from blaster bolts that had come too close, and even the looser folds of their tunics were scorched.

Oddly, the troopers had given up the chase once the Jedi were nearly at the ships. As they bounded over to them, Arfour revolved in its socket and gave a startled bleep when it saw that its master was missing.

An imperial shuttle passed overhead. "We can't just leave Erril's ship here," Bal said.

"I'll pilot that one," Nova said with finality. "We'll get back to Sonalia, report to Commander Beld, and then we'll rescue Erril."

"After we find out where they're taking him. All right." The Zabrak took a breath. "Now, let's hurry, before reinforcements come down on us..."


	12. Chapter 11: Enemy Mine

**Chapter 11:**

**Enemy Mine**

_The Super Star Destroyer Chiron, currently cruising through the unknown regions beyond Imperial space._

_Several hours later._

When Kaven came to he felt as though he were floating, and opened his eyes to find himself in a holding cell. Coils of energy encircled his wrists and ankles, and he was floating upright and rotating slowly. His robe was missing, as well as his lightsaber and blaster.

There was a subtle low noise pervading the area, and he recognized the sound of very powerful ion engines. He was aboard a Star Destroyer.

_What's going to happen to me now...? _he wondered. _What will they do to me?_

The door on the other side of the room slid open, and Lieutenant Verdan walked in.

Kaven glared at him. "Come to gloat, or what?"

"No." The lieutenant stopped before the cell, gazing up at him. "Do you know why you're here?" Kaven opened his mouth, and Verdan held up a hand. "I'm very serious. Do you know why you were a priority target for us?"

"The Empire wants me as a Dark Jedi," the pilot spat.

"I see," Verdan said. "What if I were to tell you that you were no longer in the hands of the Empire proper?"

"I'd ask what the hell I was doing in a Star Destroyer, then."

"Have you ever heard of the New Empire?"

Kaven floated silently for a moment. "Galak Fyyar's Reborn faction, out for conquest-" he began.

"No! There's nothing further from it." Lieutenant Verdan put his hands on his hips. "The New Empire doesn't support Sith and Dark Jedi. I'm not at liberty to tell you anything further, but I suppose you'll find out when you reach your destination."

"Then why come to talk to me at all, if you're not going to tell me anything?"

"I've come to give you advice, and tell you that you're in no danger with them unless you bring it on yourself. And I urge you to cooperate-your recent alliance with the Jedi and the Republic has raised some suspicions about your loyalties."

"Tired of having me running about like a loose cannon, are we?" Kaven's mouth was a thin line. "I'm sorry to say it, but I've thrown in my lot with the Jedi. To the Empire I'm nothing but a traitor."

Lieutenant Verdan looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it and shook his head. "You'll change your mind once you've spoken with the captain."

He turned and walked out, leaving Kaven to puzzle over what he had said.

The pilot felt Verdan moving away. _New Empire? _he thought. _Not a supporter of Dark Jedi or Sith? They might be against the Reborn, then, but I'd never even heard the term before the commander showed us that transmission from Ioun...which I'd also never heard of. With all this secrecy, you'd think there was some sort of imperial rebellion going on._

* * *

Lieutenant Sutler was there to greet the Jedi upon their return, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw Nova climbing out of the cockpit of the Aethersprite. "Where is Kaven?" he asked, with surprise.

"He was captured by imperial forces-the whole thing had been a trap." The Jedi turned to him. "The transmission was _meant _to fall into our hands. Ioun's not the site where they're generating Reborn, it was just a convenient place to grab him. Agh!" For a moment Sutler thought that Nova was seriously about to punch the side of the ship, but instead she stormed past him. "I'm going to talk to the commander about this," she called as she went.

"She hates failure," Bal remarked.

"So I noticed."

The Jedi sighed and rubbed his bald head. "Those imperials had the whole thing planned. They got us in there, trapped us, and then kidnapped Kaven. They had to rough him up a bit before he went quietly, it looked like. There was a Twi'lek that looked like a bounty hunter with them."

"Tall and blue, with scars on her lekku?"

"Yeah."

"That sounds like Madeen. She double-crossed us and began working for the Empire months ago." Sutler straightened. "I'm not saying that you don't _look _like it was a close call, but how did you get out of being trapped by imperials once they had Kaven? The Empire...has no record of sparing Jedi."

"It's going to sound weird, but I think they were just running us out. There were plenty of opportunities to kill us-and I've never run into Stormtroopers as tough as the ones they had. They could have killed us, but they didn't. I don't know why."

The lieutenant looked troubled. "You weren't followed?"

"No. Look, Lieutenant, I'm going to go join Nova and see what the commander has to say about this. Wherever they took Erril, we'll need to find him."

The Jedi hurried down the walkway. The little astromech lowered itself from the Starfighter and rolled over to Sutler, toodling at him. A chill wind had begun to blow, and the lieutenant folded his arms. "Those Jedi must be rubbing off," he murmured. "Now _I've _got a bad feeling about this."

* * *

The pilot had been transferred earlier to a prison cell at whatever base they had taken him to, and now Kaven sat on the narrow bunk with his arms crossed belligerently and his legs splayed.

Irritation underscored his thoughts. He was sick and tired of the Empire chasing him down, and now he was obviously about to be interrogated about his recent affiliations with the Jedi and the Republic. He was most certainly not in a cooperative mood, and the next officer that tried to interrogate him was going to know about it.

He looked up at the sound of voices outside in the corridor. The door slid open and a young captain walked in, followed by an IT-O droid. Kaven looked up and raised a hand, palm toward himself. He looked directly at the man as he closed his fist, using the Force to crush the droid.

The colour bled out of the captain's face as the crushed remains of the interrogation droid hit the floor. He turned and all but ran out of the room.

Kaven settled back again.

* * *

The young captain came to a halt before he ran straight into his commanding officer in the corridor, and flushed at what he had just done. He could face down a charging rancor, but the sight of the pilot had hit him in a certain way and he had had to get out of there. "Erm," he began.

His superior raised an eyebrow. "This," he said, "is not like you."

The captain turned a darker shade of red and nodded. "I...I know."

"The droid?"

"He crushed it."

The older man nodded. "I'll handle this."

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

Kaven's eyes were on the door as it opened and he thought, _What, another one?_

The man that entered the room was tall and thin, very straight-backed and perhaps somewhere in his forties, but with prematurely grey hair. He had rather long sideburns, and his features were thin and sharp. Everything about him seemed immaculate and severely imperial, and Kaven felt a strange hot jolt at the sight of him, as though this were a man he had been waiting years to see. Nonetheless, he kept silent.

"I am Captain Lee Rathbone of the New Empire," the officer told him, "and you will tell me everything I wish to know."

"I am Erril Kaven of the Jedi," Kaven replied, "and I don't think so." He pointed to the crushed remains of the IT-O droid. "Try to force me, and history may repeat itself."

"Yes, you managed to startle my second in command with your little trick. I will remind you that there are Stormtroopers outside the door, should you be inclined to try anything else."

"Think they'll get to you in time?"

The captain's dark eyes were penetrating. "Care to test it?"

Kaven found that he did not, and did not reply.

"Good," said Captain Rathbone. "Now, you were once a pilot of exceptional skill assigned to the fleet of Admiral Makar. After being framed for treason by Captain Thule of the _Imperial Dawn, _you fled the Empire and sought training as a Jedi, and eventually joined the Republic as part of the Jedi order."

"I have no loyalty to the Republic," the pilot said, with complete honesty.

"Then I have but one question." Rathbone leaned closer. "Whose side are you on?"

Kaven's eyes met his. "The Empire's. But never the dark side of the Force."

"The purpose of your training with the Jedi is for mastery of the Force only."

The pilot felt as though he could not lie to this man. "Yes."

"And if I were to tell you that with us you could complete your training?"

"How? There are no imperial Jedi."

Captain Rathbone nodded curtly. "We have our resources. However, you could be the first."

Kaven's answer was barely more than a whisper. "An imperial knight."

"Yes."

The pilot could hardly dare to hope, but quite against his will he felt as though he could trust this man. After a moment's pause, he said, "I'm listening..."

* * *

It was some hours later that the captain emerged from the prison cell with Kaven following him, the Jedi unbound and with a quiet, hopeful expression.

"You will have access to a number of Jedi holocrons that we've attained, as long as you remain with us," Captain Rathbone was saying. "There are others, of course, but you understand that the use of them is an earned privilege."

Kaven nodded. "I understand, Captain."

"Your orders will be from me, and-for now-me alone," the imperial officer added, "As you are now my agent. I will give you your assignments, and provide you with the means necessary to complete them."

The Jedi nodded again. As their conversation had progressed, he had begun to suspect that Captain Rathbone was far more than just a captain as far as the New Empire was concerned. The man hadn't mentioned his own role overmuch, but Kaven was certain that he was orchestrating the whole thing. There was something about him that spoke of a chessmaster, a certain calculating intellect.

The New Empire...only days ago, he hadn't even known what it had referred to. Now he knew. He was now at the heart of an emerging faction bent on overthrowing the Reborn and all who supported it, seizing control of the fractured Empire, and reuniting it under a new government. An imperial rebellion.

"The Empire is not aware of us?" he asked.

"No. They are aware that there are those who would support a change to imperial law, but of the New Empire proper...not at all."

"If they knew, they couldn't possibly approve."

"If they knew, we would all be charged with treason."

"That's one reason to stay in the shadows. Nobody here supports Emperor Palpatine?"

"Not one," Captain Rathbone replied. "Once you speak to the base personnel, I am certain you'll find them quite...educated on matters of the Force. They know what the late emperor was."

Kaven nodded. "Verdan is part of this New Empire business, isn't he-he said that you don't support Sith and Dark Jedi. Hardly anyone knows about the Sith these days." The older man just dipped his head in confirmation. "Who else do I know that's a part of this whole...conspiracy?"

"I suspect you'll be surprised," the officer told him, and they stopped before a door. "Your being here has not gone unnoticed. Go in, and I'll see you once I've taken care of certain issues."

The pilot looked bemused, but at an impatient gesture from the captain, turned and went inside.

* * *

The room was a lounge of sorts, and Kaven came to a halt when he saw who was inside. "Admiral!"

Admiral Makar gave him a companionable nod. "Erril, my boy, you have no idea how much good this is going to do the both of us." The imperial officer was sitting on a couch with his hands folded atop his cane. He didn't appear angry, but his expression was stern and the pilot knew he had a lot to answer for.

"Er..."

"Sit down," Makar said. Kaven sank into a chair across from him, still looking spooked. "Now, let's put all formalities aside," the admiral continued, "and have this out man to man."

"You never did like formalities much," Kaven said vaguely.

"Not when I can help it." The old man waved a hand in the direction of a decanter sitting on the low table before them, half-filled with amber liquid. "Pour one for each of us, Erril-we're going to be at this for some time."

"Yes, sir." The pilot reached out and took the decanter, pouring two drinks and handing one to the admiral. "You know Captain Rathbone?"

"I've known Lee for years. There's hardly a better ally-or worse enemy!-than him in the whole Empire. If you still trust _me _enough to heed my advice, then you should know that you can rely on him," Admiral Makar replied.

Kaven felt his cheeks warm a little at that. "After the incident on the ship, I was afraid that you wanted me to be a Dark Jedi. I didn't know what your plans for me were."

"Yes, well, at that time it wouldn't have been prudent of me to go into more detail, on account of the audience we had. I _do _wish you had left Thule to me, however. I might have wrung a few names out of him."

"I heard that someone named Maldict had been involved with him."

The old man's eyebrows raised. "Maldict? Why-yes. I know that man. He had been one of ours-likely he had been trying to move Thule into a position where he would only double-cross himself in the end. He was that sort."

"Not a good sort, whoever he was working for," the pilot said, tightly.

"Perhaps, and perhaps not. Oh, morals of an alley cat, to be sure," Admiral Makar replied, with a wave of his hand, "but a mind as double-jointed as a Zeltron dancer. He might have exposed Thule as a traitor, had he not been killed on Tel Sharis months ago."

Kaven didn't reply to that, and drained his glass at a swallow. "What's going to happen to my brother?" he asked instead, grimacing at the burning in his throat.

"Lee would be a better man to ask about that, as it pertains to army matters. However, he is quite safe right now, and on campaign at Tel Sharis." The imperial officer took a sip of his drink, savouring it like Kaven hadn't. "If he is Force-sensitive as well, then it would be advisable to bring him to the New Empire before the Reborn division hears of this," he said. "Such as it is, the good captain is likely arranging things to that extent. You needn't worry."

"Where are they getting those Reborn?" the pilot asked, refilling his own glass.

"I'm not entirely certain. Lee mentioned something called a Force nexus and the Valley of the Jedi, but we haven't the coordinates to such a location."

Kaven thought back to his lessons with Talos. The Chiss had mentioned Force nexuses and had listed the Valley of the Jedi on Ruusan as an example of such, but that was highly esoteric knowledge. "How does Captain Rathbone know about the Valley?" he asked.

"Obscene amounts of research. He's of the opinion that he ought to know his way around the Force, if he's going to employ imperial knights in the future." The corners of the old man's eyes crinkled. "Or were you suspecting that he, himself, is a Jedi?"

The pilot smiled. "No. I didn't sense anything of the Force in him," he replied. "Admiral, you're part of _this _faction...and yet...at Bal'demnic, we were shipping cortosis to the Reborn faction. Why?"

"Mm, _about _that, Erril...you recall that, even as commander, you didn't have access to the knowledge of where exactly that cortosis was being sent?"

The realization slid into place. "You made it look like the Reborn...but it was really to the New Empire." Admiral Makar nodded. "And, and then you had me as commander, both because I was a pilot and didn't know just how much a _real _commander would know about it, and because you knew I'd never go against your orders."

"Partway right," the older man agreed. "At that time, I knew that you had more than just luck on your side, and the Bal'demnic campaign had been fraught with problems."

"But...why didn't you ever _tell _me that I was Force-sensitive?"

At that the admiral sighed. "In retrospect, I should have. But I wanted to keep that fact a secret until I was ready to hand you over to Lee for training. You're a valuable pilot, Erril, and with our territories shrinking as quickly as they have been...well...you see what I'm getting at." The pilot nodded. "We don't have the power to stand against the Reborn or the rest of the Empire, if we were to be discovered. We must be discreet at all times."

"Yes, I understand," said Kaven. That he had served so long under such a prominent agent of the New Empire without even suspecting anything amazed him, and he wondered just how far their claws reached.

"Now, here's what _I _want to know." The imperial officer sat back, crossing his legs. "Just what happened between departing for the South Kuan shipyards and being captured by us? You've...well...you've grown, Erril, and I don't mean physically."

"Long story, Admiral."

Admiral Makar eyed him. "I've sat through longer at imperial banquets. Ahem?"

Kaven smiled a little, and told him about what had happened, including his meetings with Hrakis, his Jedi trials, and his misgivings about joining the Jedi order and the Republic. He left out a few details about his dealings with Mira the Hutt, but otherwise gave his admiral the whole story, glad to be able to trust him again.

"Well!" said the older man, after he had finished. "That is quite a story. I'm having some trouble picturing you as a pirate, personally, but I suppose a month hardly counts. Your wing mates will want to hear about this, once they know you're back."

The Jedi smiled. "They're all right?"

"Quite."

At that moment the door opened, revealing Captain Rathbone. "Reconciled?" the captain inquired.

Kaven rose. "Yes. Admiral-I'm sorry I ever doubted you," he said to the old officer, as he joined the captain at the door.

After they had left the admiral sat back, mulling over what the young pilot had told him. The incident with the Clawdite had been exceptional, and Makar was aware that if Kaven were capable of such things even at this stage, when he was fully trained he was either going to become the greatest Jedi of the New Empire, or a bloody nightmare.

_Lee, _he thought, _I hope you know what you're doing._

* * *

"According to my contacts," Captain Rathbone said, "Your Jedi companions witnessed your capture and are seeking to rescue you. Once they find you, of course."

"That's going to be a problem."

"Not at all. I intend to send you back to them." Kaven blinked. "Erril. What I want is for you to return to the Republic detachment on Sonalia for the time being." The older man turned to him. "They are trying to find out about the Reborn, and what _we _know could be of great help to them, and vice-versa. You will act as double agent, and report on their findings."

"You want to play both sides against each other."

"Precisely. Help them eliminate those Dark Jedi." The Jedi followed the imperial officer into a side room, where several other officers looked up from their computers at their entrance. "I will send you back in several days. Until then, there is much to do."

One of the officers moved closer to another and whispered something that the pilot didn't catch, and his partner nodded. Captain Rathbone moved to one of the terminals to confer with a lieutenant, and the Jedi looked around him. It was a large room, and there were about a dozen men in there, working at computers or looking over holographs.

There was a young captain that he noticed was giving him a weird look, and as their eyes met he realized that it was the same officer whose IT-O droid he had crushed in the interrogation booth. No wonder he was being scrutinized, then-he hadn't exactly made a trustworthy first impression.

Captain Rathbone rejoined him and nodded to the other captain, who came over, still looking warily at Kaven.

"This is Captain Aedin Demarco," the older man said. "He is my second in command, and you'll be working with him on most of your missions."

"Pleased to meet you," said Demarco, in a soft voice. He was in his mid-twenties, with black hair and blue eyes, and stood at Kaven's height. He was quite handsome as well, in a slightly androgynous way, but the Jedi felt sure that making any assumptions of delicateness about this man would be a grievous mistake.

Kaven smiled. "Erril Kaven-but you knew that already. So you'll be keeping an eye on me to see that I don't misbehave, huh?"

"I suppose you could say that," the captain replied.

The Jedi brushed his hair back. "Sorry if I scared you back there."

"You didn't."

_Oh, I think I did, _Kaven thought, but didn't say. Instead he asked Captain Rathbone, "So what am I going to be doing for the next few days, Captain?"

"You will be educated on how things are run in this faction."

"I was afraid of that."

"You've joined with us quite...quickly," Captain Demarco remarked. He still didn't seem quite at ease.

Kaven turned to him. "Yes, and I'd be suspicious too, if I were in your place. But the good captain convinced me that joining the New Empire is in my best interests. I always did want to be an imperial knight...relatively speaking."

The young captain looked to his commander, who nodded. "Show him around the facility," Rathbone instructed his second. "I have business to take care of."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"I've taken care of the bounty," Captain Rathbone said later to Lieutenant Verdan and Madeen, once he had closed with them. "The funds will be in your account by the end of the day."

The Twi'lek smiled, two million credits richer. "Thanks for the use of the cortosis and the ysalamir," she said, and moved to take off the bracers she wore, but the captain held up a hand.

"Consider them a gift, my dear," he said. "Or a bonus, if you will."

Madeen stopped. "Thank you, Captain!"

The imperial officer just nodded in acknowledgement. "Once you've received your pay, Lieutenant Harker and his men will take you back to Entralla and your ship."

"Well, mission accomplished," Madeen said to the lieutenant, as the older man left. To her surprise Verdan didn't seem very pleased, even though his mission objectives had finally been realized as well. The officer didn't smile all that much as a matter of course, but over time she had learned to read his moods, and something was bothering him. "What is it?"

He was silent for a moment, and then said, "I need to talk to you." He took a breath. "Privately."

She went with him back to the temporary quarters he had been given during their stay on the base, where they could have a private discussion, and once the door had slid shut he turned back to her and said, "You'll be leaving and I'll be staying."

"Yeah." She wasn't thrilled with the thought, now that it had come up.

"Are we likely to meet up again?"

The bounty hunter thought about it. "Maybe," she said. "Maybe not."

Verdan bit his lip. "It was a good run while it lasted."

"Yeah."

There was a long, awkward silence, and then the human finally said, "Look, if we're not going to meet again..."

"...then the goodbyes should be memorable," Madeen finished, and they stepped into each other's arms. The kiss that followed was one that had built up over their months together, and when they parted it was just to breathe. Then they kissed again, and again, and it was not long before they locked the door.

* * *

"You didn't seem quite at ease when we met," Kaven commented, as he and Demarco walked down the corridor together. "You're not nervous around Jedi, are you?"

"No," Demarco replied. "Nor any other Force-users."

"It was just that I joined too quickly, then?" he pressed, when the captain didn't say anything else.

"Not entirely. I trust Captain Rathbone's judgement." They came to a halt beside a door, and Demarco turned to him. "Erril," he said gently, "The most you did was give me a start. Not many have their interrogation droid destroyed by a prisoner."

"That's true."

The imperial officer reached out and pressed a sequence of numbers on a keypad, and the door slid open. "Follow me." Demarco went inside, and Kaven followed. Inside was a hangar, albeit a small one, where only a couple of ships were docked. One of them was a horrendous-looking _Lambda_-class shuttle that was dotted by laser blasts and asteroid pockmarks, and it barely looked space-worthy. The other was...a ship. Even to Kaven's discerning eye, there was nothing special about it. Its silhouette and design were unremarkable, it was of unexceptional size and bulk, and there had to be three billion ships just like it in the galaxy. It was obviously not made by Sienar Flight Systems, unlike most imperial ships. It was, in fact, _so _generic that Kaven found that he almost forgot what the bloody thing looked like when he shut his eyes and recalled it.

"This," Demarco said, gesturing to the forgettable ship, "is the _Ghost. _It will be your transport on the missions Captain Rathbone assigns you, and I will be acting as pilot to give you more time to prepare between each mission. It looks...unexceptional...but it has the very best astronavigation, flight, and targeting systems available to us. It also includes an air speeder, should you need more localized transport."

"It's perfect," Kaven murmured. Nobody was going to be able to identify it, and especially not as an imperial ship. It was just right for a double agent. "You're piloting? You're an army officer."

"You're doing army missions? You're a pilot," Demarco shot back, but without anger. "Yes. The captain thought it best that you not be distracted. Your assignments will not be easy. On that note..." He nodded to the shuttle. "_That _monstrosity is what you'll be flying back to Sonalia."

"You must be joking-it looks like it barely escaped a rebel invasion."

"Its appearance will give you more...credibility than something brand new."

Kaven sighed. "Yeah. It'll look like I only just managed to get out of there." He looked up at the shuttle, and thought about what he could say when he went back to Sonalia. Betraying the Republic didn't bother him, but lying to Bal and Nova was going to be hard. He liked those two. _But I guess choices must be made at some point, _he thought. _I can't have everything._

* * *

There wasn't much room on the narrow bunk, but it was just big enough for both of them, and that was fine. Lieutenant Verdan was lying with one hand behind his head, his eyes closed and his other arm around the Twi'lek, who was lying on her side and gazing down at him. He really was gorgeous, she decided, with his black hair and good cheekbones and carved features, like one of those classic statues come to life. To her the scar made it better-like a finishing touch.

She had supposed that he had been asleep, until he spoke. "I've been thinking," he said.

"About?"

He turned his head to look at her. "You. Would you consider working for the New Empire?"

Madeen snuggled closer. "Sure. There's bound to be lots of jobs."

"There always are."

"Gonna talk to that captain of yours?"

"Yes..."

"But later, right? You're comfortable."

He paused, wondering if she meant that he was comfortable lying there, or if he was comfortable for _her, _and concluded that she had meant both. "Right. Later."

* * *

Captain Rathbone was standing by the window with his hands folded behind his back, gazing out at the downland in thought as Demarco approached, and he turned his head at the sound of his second's footsteps.

"I left him with Admiral Makar," Demarco said.

"Good." The older man turned to him fully. "I would rather he not go about unescorted at this stage."

The young officer understood. It was as much about appearance as it was about prudence. "I've received reports from our agents on the Outer Rim," he said. "Tel Sharis is securely under imperial control. Their troops are massing to invade Sonalia within the next few weeks. Shanast has become a battleground-the natives are aiding the Republic and have inflicted serious casualties among imperial troops. There are two Reborn and a Jedi Master there as well."

"Hmm. Who is the Jedi?"

"Master Telis Kord, sir-a veteran of the Clone Wars. He's been living in exile in a remote system and has only recently shown himself. He's not affiliated with the new order, however-only the military. He convinced the natives to join them."

Captain Rathbone folded his arms. "I will consider the Shanast campaign in time. Right now, Sonalia is what concerns me."

"You're going to have Kaven participate in the battle?"

"Regardless of what I instruct him to do, he'll participate once he discovers that his brother is going to be among the imperial troops," the older man replied. "I intend to account for that eventuality."

The deviousness inherent in the Jedi's first assignment became apparent to Demarco then, and he said carefully, "You play dirty."

"As do we all, Captain..."

* * *

It was a few days later that Kaven left, heading for Sonalia in the beaten-up imperial shuttle. There were no complications along the way, and when he touched down at the main base and disembarked he found himself surrounded by Republic soldiers.

"Don't shoot! It's just me," he said, raising his empty hands.

Lieutenant Sutler put his blaster away with a sigh. "Do you just make a habit of this?" he asked, motioning for his men to lower their rifles.

"It's certainly turning out that way," Kaven replied, lowering his arms. He had spent a couple of days sustaining himself with the Force alone, to give himself a ragged edge for when he returned to the Republic, and he now looked slightly wild. "Lieutenant. Are Bal and Nova all right? We were separated on Ioun. There were Stormtroopers after them."

"They're all right." Sutler crossed his arms. "So how did you escape _this _time? Did you mind-trick your way out again?"

"As a matter of fact...it _did _get me out of the cell."

"It must be nice to have that to lean on," the officer said, sardonically. "Now come on. They'll want to see you at the base."

* * *

"Erril!" Bal exclaimed, when Sutler came walking in with Kaven at his side. He and Nova jumped to their feet. "...You look terrible," he added, once they had closed with them.

"Thank you," Kaven said dryly. "As a matter of fact, I am rather tired. But, listen-they weren't generating Reborn at that base at all-it was just a ploy to capture me."

"We know _that _already. Where did they take you?"

"I don't know. I just know that I spent some time in the holding cell of a Star Destroyer, before being transferred to a base on some planet I didn't recognize." He took a breath. "I was interrogated-they mentioned something about the Valley of the Jedi and the Reborn and the start of a new Empire...I resisted it as much as I could...in the end, I managed to mind-trick a guard into letting me out. I _barely _made it out of there." He nodded to Sutler. "_He _can tell you. The ship I took looks ready to fall apart."

Sutler didn't reply. "What did they say about the Valley of the Jedi?" Nova asked.

"Not much. From what I heard, it has something to do with the Reborn. During my training, my master told me that it was home to a Force nexus. Maybe..."

Bal rubbed his head. "This is getting worse and worse. I heard Master Katarn has been dealing with the Reborn as well, on Bespin. Master Skywalker has to be told about this."

"I agree," Kaven said firmly. "It sounds like there are enough Reborn to pose a serious threat to the New Republic."

* * *

The Jedi spoke privately to one another, and Kaven gave a full and wholly fictional account of his time spent among imperial forces after being captured on Ioun. Afterward, they sent what little they knew in a transmission back to the Jedi academy.

The days that followed that were peaceful, but it was a week later that they received the call from Luke Skywalker. The three listened carefully to the Jedi Master's message, and while Bal and Nova prepared their ship for the upcoming journey, Kaven went back to his room and contacted Captain Rathbone.

The captain's holograph formed. "What is it, Erril?"

"The Reborn _are _generating at the Valley of the Jedi on Ruusan," Kaven told him. "Somehow the Empire managed to obtain the coordinates and are using the Force nexus there. The Jedi are being rallied to retake the place and put a stop to it."

"I see. Go with them and aid them in any way you can." The imperial officer crossed his arms. "Engage the Reborn and any ordinary troops you find there, but I want you to avoid Desann if you happen to find him there."

"Who's this 'Desann'?"

"One of the leaders of the Reborn faction, and a powerful Dark Jedi. He is out of your league. Let him clash with Kyle Katarn all he likes, but do not engage him yourself."

"Yes, Captain," Kaven replied. _Katarn, _he thought. _He's affiliated with the Jedi academy. Captain, just how much do you know?_

"Once the bulk of the threat has been taken care of," the older man continued, "let the Jedi handle it, and return to Sonalia. You'll receive further instructions then."

"Understood." Kaven turned the holo off and slipped it back into the pocket of his robes, mulling over the situation. He wasn't pleased about deceiving Bal and Nova, although his ploy seemed to be working out so far. He liked the two Jedi, but he strongly suspected that he would always feel compelled to go with Captain Rathbone if a choice were to present itself. He didn't know the captain well enough to know if he were truly decent or not, but the older man made him feel a warmth that he had not felt in years. To say that he had fallen in love with the man was an exaggeration, but there was a strange sense of fulfillment there that both pleased and puzzled him. Whether he would come to like him, love him, or despise him would remain to be seen, Kaven thought, as he left the room, but even now it was clear that he needed him.

* * *

"Arfour, let's go," the Jedi called, and the droid moved itself into position and plugged itself into his Starfighter. "Upload the coordinates to Ruusan and we'll be off."

The droid toodled an affirmative, and as Kaven climbed into the cockpit he saw Nova conferring with Sutler. As they drew closer, he heard the older man say, "Are you certain you wouldn't want a contingent of soldiers with you? For...security?"

"Backup troops would be nice to have," Nova agreed, "but this is something for the Jedi to handle."

"Yes, the Valley _is_...Jedi business," Sutler said unhappily. He came to a stop, and the Jedi began to board the ship. "May the Force be with you."

_I can see right through you, Lieutenant, _the pilot thought.

"And with you," the female Jedi returned. Kaven and Bal waved, and they lifted off. The draft blew the officer's hair around, and he crossed his arms as the Jedi breached the atmosphere.

"The Force is fine," he murmured. "But I would have preferred your company more."

* * *

"_You seem more relaxed than before,_" Nova commented over the comlink, as they left Sonalia.

"Do I?" asked Kaven. "I suppose so. I feel more relaxed. As...nasty as my capture was, it clarified things for me." He sighed. "I know whose side I'm really on now."

* * *

"Five AT-ATs," Jan Kaven said. "Eighteen AT-STs. All prepared for transport. Supplies and munitions are proceeding as planned. The troops will be ready to launch the attack in five days." The commander's aide took a breath. "Recent intelligence reports indicate the presence of three Jedi Knights at the military base, but no more than that."

"Their names?" Commander Dias asked.

"Undisclosed," the lieutenant replied.

_Good, _the older man thought. "Relay the reports to General Kordis, and tell him that our orders have been given; he is to take the western command post and proceed east from there."

Jan raised a dark eyebrow, but didn't ask. "Yes, sir. Right away."

* * *

Ruusan was a battleground.

"Rogue Squadron, huh." Kaven's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the X-Wings engaging TIEs across the field, and he added darkly, "Thank your lucky stars that I'm on _your _side..._for now_."

The Jedi wove through the field, avoiding fire from the imperial combatants, and managed to breach the atmosphere without being shot down. There was a valley ringed with giant stone figures of ancient Jedi, and within it was a great complex. The three landed there, and fairly leapt out of their ships with their weapons blazing when several figures bearing red lightsabers came at them.

There were more Jedi there than just them, Kaven saw, as they engaged the Reborn, and everywhere pairs of combatants exchanged blows in brilliant flashes of colour. He could feel the battle resonating in the Force, as the glowing blooms of the Jedi struggled with the twisted shadows of the Reborn. It was chaotic and noisy, and in its novelty the young man found it difficult to focus properly.

_Emotion, yet peace, _he reminded himself, as he used the surprise edge of Makashi against the Reborn he fought, using the Dark Jedi's ignorance of the pure forms to draw him in, and once the man had adjusted to his style he suddenly changed to Ataru, flipping over his head and cutting him through from behind. The Reborn crumpled. _That one was like a padawan, _he thought. _They look like Jedi, and fight like Jedi...but what's been done to them that made them _this _way?_

The sight of a Reborn running a brown-haired Jedi through brought him forcibly out of his reverie, and for a nanosecond a cold hand clutched his stomach as he mistook the crumpling woman for Nova. Relief came when he saw that it was someone else, but that didn't stop him from leaping into the fray to engage the victorious Dark Jedi.

It was no longer a game, if ever it had been one. This Reborn was a bit older than the others, considerably more seasoned, and quite a match for Kaven. The pilot's use of Makashi gave him no initial advantage this time, and an attempted overhead flip earned him nothing less than being caught with the Force and slammed into the side of the temple complex by which they fought.

He scrambled to his feet as the Dark Jedi approached. "That," the Reborn said, "will serve as a reminder." He brought his lightsaber to bear. "I'll take your head next time."

"You'll wish you'd taken it then," Kaven answered, and sidestepped a vicious swipe from the Dark Jedi. The slash left a blackened streak in the stone behind where he had stood a second previous. Kaven countered, and their lightsabers collided. They eyed each other over the crackling blades. "I'm more trouble than you realize."

Their grapple broke, and they exchanged a hard, brief flurry of blows. Throwing caution to the wind, Kaven hit the Reborn with the Force. The man didn't fall over, but he did stumble a little, a frown crossing his features, and the Jedi slashed at him. The Reborn's reflexes were substantial, and the result of Kaven's gambit was nothing more than a slash across the front of his orange tunic.

"It's over, Jedi." The Dark Jedi attacked again, this time managing to drive Kaven back up against the wall. Their lightsabers were locked again, and the tip of his left a red-hot trail as it slid slowly down through the stone, as he forced the pilot downwards. "You're finished."

No sooner had he spoken than his expression changed, his lips pressing tightly together and his brow knit as if pained, and a great deal of the strength he had been exerting fell away. He folded up, and Kaven saw the reason as Nova withdrew her lightsaber from his back.

"I couldn't agree more," the Jedi said. She had a large bruise on one cheek and was looking a little ragged, but otherwise seemed all right.

"I owe you one," Kaven told her, straightening. Behind her, he could see part of the Reborn that she and Bal had been fighting a moment ago. The Zabrak was nowhere to be seen, but the pilot could feel him nearby.

Kaven's gaze moved upward, to a higher terrace of the building, and he caught a glimpse of Luke Skywalker engaged in a battle with three Reborn. As he watched, the Jedi Master blew one of them straight off the balcony without a single break in his movements, and another fell a moment later, shorn nearly in half by the swing of a lightsaber.

"Maybe it's a _good _thing I never met him until now," the pilot said to himself.

Bal suddenly dropped from above, landing in a crouch beside them. "We've got company," the Zabrak said curtly. "Outside perimeter is secure, inside-not so much. Lots of Reborn. Let's go."

* * *

Hours later, Kaven was still alive.

He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not, given how he felt at the current time. There didn't seem to be a single part of his body that didn't hurt, sting, or ache in some way, and he was filled with the kind of fatigue so deep that even sleep seemed too tiring to consider.

Currently the pilot sat curled up against the wall of a corridor inside the building, with his knees up and his arms wrapped around himself. He had gotten his breath back since the last battle, but a light sheen of moisture still stood out on his skin, and curls of brown hair clung to his forehead.

They had managed to drive the Reborn out of the building, and outside Kaven could still hear the fading clash of lightsabers. The shadows were retreating, though, and the Dark Jedi with them. They had won, at least for the moment.

Bal was sitting across from him with his elbows resting on his knees, and he appeared to be asleep. The Zabrak was not feeling quite as tender as Kaven, but he had received a few new scars that day. The pilot could see a couple of them through the tears in his sleeves, a pair of tiger-stripe slashes on his left forearm. They didn't show well against his red skin.

The Jedi stirred and woke up at the sound of footsteps, and the human turned his head as well. It was Nova. "The Reborn have pulled out of the Valley," she said. "We're still under attack, but...this area's secure for the moment."

"How's it looking out there?" the pilot inquired. His own voice sounded drab to him.

Nova shook her head, her lips thin. Bal heaved himself to his feet, and gave Kaven a hand up as well. They trudged to the entrance and looked out, and immediately both men wished that they hadn't.

"I'm going to be sick," Kaven said, in an almost conversational tone.

"I think I'll join you," Bal managed. "That bush...looks like a good place to start..."

As the Zabrak stumbled away, Kaven turned and went back inside, steadying himself with a hand on the wall.

In dogfights, death was a clean affair. When a pilot's ship blew up, what remained of him most of the time was interstellar dust. Although Kaven had made many kills in his career, the circumstances of his profession had seen to it that corpses were not something that he had encountered too terribly often.

That was not the case here. A lightsaber was a powerful weapon in the right hands, and one stroke could chop a being in half. Not all of the Reborn or the Jedi had been killed by a simple clean thrust, and as a result body parts were strewn about the battlefield that the building's grounds had become. Kaven knew personally what a lightsaber could do to the living body, but to see it in such great supply sickened him. One body was unpleasant, two was nasty, ten was disturbing, and fifty was horrific.

He wandered deeper into the building's interior. There was a tug here, an inexorable tidal pull that he could not ignore or push away, and he followed its emanations to the heart of the complex. He knew well that he was in a place sacred to the Jedi, and when Talos had told him of it he had thought it nearly mythological. Few ever made it to Ruusan.

At the very heart of the tidal pull was a chamber, in the centre of which was a softly-glowing dais, surrounded by statues of hooded figures.

The Force was strong here-so strong that it felt like a second heartbeat to the pilot, who found himself inching toward the dais. The sheer power of this place was overwhelming, and it imprinted itself upon his thoughts. It drew him like a moth to a flame.

Kaven glanced over his shoulder. Nobody had followed him here.

It was so tempting to step onto the dais, but he hesitated, wondering what that might do to him. The Reborn weren't...right. There was something wrong with them, something fractured. It showed in their eyes and in the Force. They had been using the nexus here to generate, and if he stepped into the nexus as well, would he become twisted and unnatural like them?

He thought about that for a long time, searching his feelings as Talos would have wanted him to, and then thought, _No place sacred to the Jedi would do something like that. The Reborn are the product of dark forces._

He stepped onto the dais, and opened himself up to the glory of the Force.

What followed was indescribable, but to Kaven it felt as though he had been hit with a tidal wave of light that rushed through him like a flood, filling every corner and every cell of his body, threatening to spill over and overwhelm him in its magnitude. He heard himself gasp, and then he was being drawn up into the air. His feet had left the ground, and he was floating in midair with his arms spread and his eyes shut, still feeling that ineffable rush and trying to take it all in.

Just as it seemed that he might die of it, the Force let go of him and he dropped back to the ground in a crouch, panting. He felt white-hot, like a metal rod just struck by lightning, and as he rose he fairly crackled with power. There was no fatigue in him now; instead he felt more energetic and more powerful than he ever had in his life.

_What am I now? _he wondered. _Am I Reborn now, too?_

He stepped off the dais.

_Well, it's time to find out, isn't it?_

* * *

Bal was resting with his partner in the corridor when he heard Kaven's footsteps approach, and he looked up to see the Jedi emerge from the shadows. The human's face was still drawn from his exertions of the day, but there was no fatigue in his step or his bearing, and his eyes glittered with a sort of manic energy. Tension, Bal guessed. They had all narrowly avoided dying that day.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Fine," Kaven replied. He gave the Zabrak a weird little smile. "Don't I look all right?"

"You look like you got your second wind, but you should get some rest while you still can, Erril. Those Reborn will be back."

"That sounds reasonable enough. Is that all?"

Bal looked up at him. There was nothing physically off about the pilot, but he did seem to have a stronger presence than before. "What were you expecting?"

The weird little smile was back, just for a moment, and then Kaven said, "Nothing, really."

* * *

The fighting on Ruusan continued for several more days, and although the Reborn had not retreated entirely, the Jedi now controlled the planet.

Captain Rathbone contacted Kaven on the fourth day. "I have your new orders," he said. "Have your partners survived Ruusan?"

"Yes."

"You're to return to Sonalia at once. Your partners will likely wish to accompany you, once they hear your reason for returning. They may do so."

One corner of Kaven's mouth lifted. "And what _is _my reason for returning, Captain?"

"You've had a vision. The Empire is preparing to invade Sonalia."

"Why would they believe that?"

The imperial officer smiled thinly. "Because it's true."

A memory of Stormtroopers and flame came back to the pilot then. "You want us to get back in time for the invasion. Whose side am I on this time?"

"Defend the Republic," the older man instructed him, "When the attack comes, they will be quickly overtaken. You are to convince them to evacuate, and you will leave with them afterward."

"Am I getting a full briefing on this, or will I have to just play it by ear?" the pilot asked.

"You'll receive further instructions once you've gone planetside. Your contact will meet you at the base. Good luck, Erril."

"Yes...my captain." Kaven turned the holoprojector off and put it away. There was a great deal that Captain Rathbone was not telling him, he knew, but it was never logical to give away your plans-it could wind up spoiling them. He leaned a hand against the side of his ship, which he had been modifying when the officer had called on him, and thought about what he would say to the others. After he had arranged his explanation, he went to them.

* * *

"The Empire's going to invade Sonalia?" Nova asked with shock, after Kaven had told them of his vision.

"I don't know that for sure," the pilot replied. "But...it was so clear. It was like it was really happening, for a minute. I couldn't have dreamed it. My dreams are never that..." Normal. "...clear."

"You're really sure it was a vision?"

"Yes...but even if it wasn't, I'm going back to Sonalia to warn them. The Jedi have things under control here, you won't need me for the next few days..." Kaven glanced away, to where his ship was docked in the distance. "What I don't want is to be responsible for a planet's downfall," he murmured.

"I'll come with you," Bal said. When Kaven turned to him, he added, with a wink, "If the Remnant really is going to make a try for Sonalia, you'll need someone to help convince them in time. You're still something of a renegade."

"Yes...you're right." Kaven nodded. "I'm still a rogue Jedi."

* * *

"Give me a status report, Captain," said Dias, once he had entered the bridge of the _Sagittarius. _"How long until we arrive at Sonalia?"

"We are performing at peak efficiency, Commander," the captain replied. "We will arrive in twelve hours and forty-two minutes."

* * *

When they arrived at the military base, the commander was in conference. Kaven wandered out to the lakeshore by himself. Wondering who in the world was going to be the one to meet him, he picked up a flat stone and threw it. It skipped twice before sinking.

Feeling someone coming, he turned to see a blonde officer walking toward him. He recognized him as Lieutenant Aeron, and nodded to him in greeting before turning back to the water.

The officer came right up to him. "Your briefing, as promised," he said, passing Kaven a datapad. The pilot's green eyes widened as he realized that Aeron was an imperial agent, but before he could say anything the lieutenant raised a finger to his lips, smiled, and walked away down the shoreline.

Kaven looked around, and when he was sure that he was the only one there, he began to read through the data.

There was a map of the base, with several dots highlighted. Explosives had been set there. There were instructions for him to set them off using a detonator control pad that had been left in his Starfighter. It had been shaped to fit underneath his sleeve. Kaven read through the mission briefing in detail, understanding that he would have to time things carefully. It was going to be tricky, but Captain Rathbone apparently had confidence that he would succeed. That thought gave him an unexpected bloom of warmth.

He continued to read, and found that there was a list of officers' names there. Wondering why that would be included, Kaven scrolled through, and his mouth went dry when his eyes caught on one name:

_Lieutenant Jan Kaven._

_Jan, _he thought. _Jan...that's why this is here...they wanted me to know that you're coming..._

His jaw clenched, and he nodded grimly. Failure was _not _an option. He would ensure the Empire's victory and make sure his brother lived through it all-even if he had to turn around and kill a few rebels in the meantime.

From the base, an alarm began to sound.

* * *

"General Kordis, the fleet has moved out of light speed. We are now ready to make planetfall," a naval officer reported. "Our scans have detected energy fields strong enough to resist orbital bombardment."

"The rebels have been alerted to our presence," Kordis replied. "Very well. And of Admiral Dyer's fleet?"

"They will arrive within the hour, sir."

"Good. We will begin our landing now."

* * *

"What...what's going on?" Kaven asked, coming to a halt in the control room.

"Imperial forces have just come out of hyperspace," Lieutenant Aeron replied. His hands were moving fast over the keyboard, his expression grim. He was a good actor. "They've made planetfall in sector seven-we're being invaded, sir!"

_Man, they're fast, _the pilot thought, looking at the screens. _We didn't even have a chance to warn the commander yet._ "What have we got?"

"Five AT-ATs, moving in the direction of our western command post."

There was a distant rumble, and Kaven felt something else coming through the Force. "What was _that?_"

"A second fleet has come out of hyperspace!" another officer exclaimed. "Transport ships are breaching the atmosphere-they're landing south of the base!"

"_Another _fleet!"

"They're out of effective range of our ion cannons..."

"There are more AT-ATs! Four of them!"

The control room burst into action as Kaven felt the chaos starting through the Force. He sensed something else as he left the room.

_Jan, _he thought. _I feel you here._

* * *

"This is...this is overkill," Jan said, surveying the march of the AT-ATs. The rebels had deployed their pilots, and X- and Y-Wings filled the air with blaster fire as they tried to shoot down the armoured transports. "They don't stand a chance."

"What this is," said Nalian, at his side, "is a guaranteed victory."

They motioned their squads into place as they followed the higher-ranking officers. They would engage ground forces while the AT-ATs disabled the shields and the ion cannons, and when General Kordis and his troops had overrun the western command post, they would take the base from both sides.

Strangely enough, Jan had the feeling that he would not be around long enough to see the end of the battle.

* * *

Kaven took advantage of the chaos at the base to hop onto a swoop and make for the western command post, curtly informing an officer of his destination.

The attack had begun late in the day, and the sun was setting when the Jedi came roaring into the station. He was off the swoop almost before it had come to a halt, and he took note of the personnel as he ran toward the communications relay.

The pair of soldiers on duty whirled as he came in, and then relaxed when they saw that it was a Jedi. "I was almost afraid this post had been taken already," Kaven said.

"We're preparing for the attack, sir. Reconnaissance reports that the imperial troops will be here within a few hours..."

"Do we know who's leading them?" Kaven already knew that it was General Kordis, but he had a masquerade to keep up. He felt Jan clearly through the Force and wanted dearly to go to him, but he had his orders and he would obey them. He could only wait here, and hope that nothing would go wrong.

* * *

Commander Dias' men stopped hours later under the cover of the forest to regroup and prepare to take the base. Jan nearly went to assist Dias, but reminded himself that he was no longer the man's aide, and sat down on a fallen log instead.

Like in times past, he could feel the battle around him. The chaos in the air was nearly tangible, and when he closed his eyes he could almost see the other units fighting kilometres away. As he felt these things, he became aware of something else, and his eyes flew open.

"Erril," he whispered.

He had not seen him in ages, but now he had the strong feeling that Erril was here on Sonalia, and not far from him. How he knew this, he wasn't sure, but he would have bet his life that his older brother was here, alive and well and strong. There was a bond between them, and Jan had always been able to feel his presence and his emotions. He didn't know if other people felt it as strongly, but he always had. He and Erril had a special connection to each other.

Jan turned his eyes skyward. "Erril, are you with General Kordis' men...?"

Some feet away, Dias turned his head to look at the lieutenant. Jan didn't notice the look his commanding officer was giving him, and concentrated on his brother instead. The pilot was somewhere west of them.

_Erril...come on. You have to feel me here, too, _he thought.

* * *

_It's time, _Kaven thought, getting up from where he had been meditating and feeling out the imperial forces. Reaching under his sleeve as he went back to the communications relay, he set off two of the explosives on the base.

"...Hello? Vita base, come in," a soldier was saying. He looked to his partner. "No good...their communications relay must be out..."

Kaven shut the door behind him, and reached into his tunic.

"Stang, are we on our own now?"

The pilot drew his lightsaber.

"It was fine a minute ago...must have been one of the shots from an AT-AT..."

One of the men seemed on the verge of panic. "Those imperials are going to kill us all! They're going to be here any minute now, and-" The soldier suddenly stopped, and looked down at the foot of yellow plasma protruding from his breast.

"They're already here," Kaven said. He pulled the blade out, and the man slumped. The soldier's partner scrambled to his feet as Kaven took a step toward him, reaching for his blaster. With a sweeping gesture the Jedi pulled it out of his hand with the Force, and then cut him through with a slash.

Returning his lightsaber to his hip, the pilot took his holoprojector from his pocket and turned it on. The image of a bald-headed imperial officer formed. "I've knocked out the communications as instructed," Kaven told him. "General Kordis, you are all clear for attack."

The door slid open and the Jedi turned to see a Republic soldier halt in mid-step. The man's face went pale when he saw what had happened, but before he could get back outside to sound the alarm, Kaven drew his blaster and shot him. The soldier dropped.

Kaven took a deep breath. Then, with his blaster pistol in one hand and his lightsaber in the other, he stepped outside.

* * *

"This-it-it came too fast!" Bal's lightsaber jerked into place, deflecting a Stormtrooper's shot back at him. The imperial soldier took the shot in the breastplate and fell, hurt but alive. "There's no way we can hold them off!"

He and Nova had been caught with a few of the other officers when the attack had come. They had been making for the control room when the explosions had ripped through, blowing their communications relay to smithereens, and currently they were running down the corridor from there, trying to find a safer place to dig their heels in. Imperial forces had reached the base, though they hadn't penetrated far as of yet.

"Lieutenant! Have you gotten through yet?"

"Yes!" A shot from Sutler brought down a Stormtrooper that had been preparing to fire on them, and the group ducked around the corridor. "Orders are to evacuate immediately. Rendezvous north of the lake."

"Getting out of here is going to be a problem," Bal muttered. "There's troopers at all exits. Elevators are shut down. They're making quick work of us."

"If we could get to the basement, there's a maintenance passage that leads outside," one of the soldiers with them said.

"There's a sewer exit," another volunteered. "You'd have to cut through the grates to get out, but you'd get out by the lake."

The group of Stormtroopers that had been pursuing them turned the corner, and with the Jedi at the rear and deflecting the imperials' blaster bolts, they managed to get into the next corridor without losing anyone. With a slash of her lightsaber Nova sealed the door shut. "That will hold them," she said. "For a few minutes, anyway."

"What's our destination?" the Zabrak asked, as they began running again.

"Try for that maintenance passage," his partner replied. "The lower levels should be less populated."

"Where's Erril? He'd wandered down by the shore when the alarms went..."

"I don't know. I can feel him, he's alive, but I don't know _where _he is..."

* * *

"Come out with your hands up, Jedi!" the Stormtrooper sergeant called.

_Well, that _would _make me an easier target, wouldn't it? _Kaven thought, from where he crouched in the branches of a large tree, watching the squad of troopers from above. He'd meant to get away from the command post before the imperials had arrived, but he'd been spotted and pursued through the dense woods by this group. The night should have made it easier to lose them, but the troopers were using their night-vision displays and he had almost been shot already. He rather wished they had been informed that he was an ally, but that would have been risky information if something were to go wrong. He couldn't be seen aiding the Empire here.

His eyes moved to a thick bough some distance away, and he tensed.

One of the Stormtroopers spotted the movement and acted, turning fully in Kaven's direction and loosing a storm of blaster bolts. "Sergeant-!"

The Jedi threw himself out of the way, missed the branch, and fell heavily to the ground amid a rain of tattered leaves and bark. There was the sound of blasters being cocked. He rolled to his feet and vaulted back into the bushes as the troopers fired. The line of blaster bolts followed as he leapt upwards, using the Force to propel himself.

The sergeant followed his flight path with the barrel of his rifle until he was looking directly at Sonalia's enormous moon. The brightness of it was too much for his visual display and he squinted, unable to see the Jedi clearly. His men were having the same problem, by and large, and were firing at where they guessed Kaven to be.

There was a thump as someone landed behind him, and the sergeant started to turn. The air around him became strangely and suddenly hard, and hit him with all the force of an exploding tank. His feet left the ground, and the world became a kaleidoscope of trees and moonlight before he hit the thick bole of a tree and blacked out.

"All alive?" Kaven asked softly, looking around him at the sprawled bodies of the troopers. They were. "Good. We're all just doing our jobs, after all...but now I believe I could use one of your speeders to do mine..."

* * *

There was an explosion from the floor above, and then an ominous groan.

"That can't be good..." Bal felt the warning come through the Force, and they all jumped back as a part of the ceiling collapsed, filling the hall with rubble. "Stars-! _Nova! _Lieutenant!"

There was the sound of the woman coughing from the other side of the rubble as the dust plumed out. "We're all right, Bal...but the tunnel's blocked..."

"Just give me a few minutes, and I'll..." Another ominous groan sounded. "I'll...damn, I don't think we have that long."

"The troopers are setting charges," the Jedi heard Sutler say. He listened, and heard it as well. It was at the far end of the hall, but a squad of Stormtroopers was clearly getting ready to blow the door down. The officer and the young woman weren't going to last long if the troopers got through and got them pinned down anywhere.

"Bal!" Nova said. "There's another door here-we'll keep moving. You get to the passage and get those troops out."

"Nova-right." Bal nodded. "Good luck, and may the Force be with you. _Both _of you." He turned back to the group of soldiers and officers they had accumulated since the attack had begun, a half-dozen or so men. "Come on. That passage isn't far."

* * *

The door by the rubble was luckily unlocked, and it wasn't long after they had ducked in than they heard the sound of a door being blasted down.

"Tunnel's collapsed," they heard a Stormtrooper say. "Think they're in the rubble?"

"That door's unlocked. Check it."

The door slid open behind them, and with quick, jerky movements Sutler turned and blasted the trooper outlined in the doorway. The shot took the unfortunate Stormtrooper in the face and he hurtled backwards, amid exclamations from his mates. When the others raised their rifles, Nova used the Force to shove the rest of them back into the hallway, dodged aside, and locked the door.

"Come on." Sutler's nerves were twanging as they hustled down the short hall, and he felt as if he would never settle down again. The Stormtroopers had been hounding them through every set of corridors, and it was only bare luck that they hadn't been pinned between groups yet. That could happen any minute.

* * *

They encountered a trio of Stormtroopers on the way to where the nearest maintenance passage was located, and while Bal deflected the shots with solid Shien strokes, the soldiers with him returned fire. There were no casualties among the Republic soldiers, and they pressed on.

It seemed like an eternity before they found the entrance to the passage, and climbed inside. Keeping his lightsaber lit, Bal led the way. He could feel Nova through the Force, and Sutler as well, which meant that they were at least alive, although they could have been taken prisoner.

The attack had been so _fast. _The imperials must have been planning it for a while; there was no other explanation for the sheer coordination of this invasion.

They reached the end of the passage. The Jedi returned the lightsaber to his belt and began to scale the ladder leading up into the power shed, and as he lifted the trapdoor and climbed out, he saw that they were surrounded.

* * *

"Maintenance passage?"

"Straight ahead."

They turned the corner, and came to a dead stop when they saw that the hallway ahead of them had collapsed. There was no way around it, and no telling how large it was. Nova let out a cry of dismay.

Sutler went to the wall of rock, putting a hand on the wall to support himself. "No! Damn it, _no!_"

"We'll try that door...maybe..." The Jedi opened it, and sagged. "No...it's a storage room. A dead end."

The lieutenant checked his blaster. "I've got three shots left," he murmured. He followed the young woman in, and looked around. There were no munitions stored in there; the supplies were all things like spare parts and fixtures. "Three shots," he said again, in the same soft voice, and rubbed his temple. "I'll have to use them well."

A distant bulkhead blew. "We might have five minutes," Nova said. She sat down on a crate.

For a few minutes after that there was nothing but the hollow echo of water dripping in the pipes, as they waited for the Stormtroopers to come. Every second rang out like an eternity.

"I love you," Sutler said at last, tentatively.

A heartbeat passed.

Nova found that she couldn't think of a suitable reply, and settled for, "I know."

The lieutenant sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it."

"You've been keeping it to yourself."

"Out of respect for the Jedi order." The officer was adamantly watching the door. "And...and you, of course."

Nova stood up. "The Jedi haven't decided their stance on that," she said. "So it's up to individuals to decide."

Sutler didn't reply.

Putting her hands on his shoulders, she turned him around to face her. "While we can," she said, and kissed him.

In response, he put his arms around her. At this point it was as much about comfort as anything else, and they were still standing together when the door slid open and they heard Kaven say in a shocked voice, "Sh-should I leave you two alone another minute?"

The officer and the Jedi stopped kissing immediately, and turned an identical shade of pink.

"Only I can't," the pilot added. "Because there are Stormtroopers everywhere and if we hurry, we _might _just get out alive."

"Ye-yes, let's hurry," Sutler stammered. He and Nova let go of each other and hastened out into the corridor, where they found Bal, Kaven, and a trio of heavily armed soldiers. The Zabrak touched his forehead in salute. Neither he nor Kaven were wearing their outer robes.

"Bal! Erril!" Nova exclaimed. "How in the world did you get in here?"

"One metre at a time," the Zabrak replied. "Come on. Sewer access is the safest way out right now."

"No one said being a Jedi was glamorous, I suppose..."

Sutler gave Kaven a sideways look as they started off. "I never thought I would be happy to see you," he said.

"Oh, Lieutenant-is that a _thank you _I hear?"

"Yes. Now don't let it go to your head."

Kaven only smirked. "I was getting some soldiers out of the base, and it was our good luck that we ran into Bal and his buddies. Or _your _good luck, whichever the case may be."

They turned the corner and ran into half a dozen Stormtroopers. The pilot raised a hand, and Sutler saw the air ripple as he used the Force to knock them all down. The group sprinted onward, down the twisting corridors, until they finally reached a room from which the gurgle of water could be heard.

"Imperials haven't discovered this way yet," a soldier said, as they entered the reservoir. "They'll find it eventually, but it's still safe."

With Kaven leading the way with his lightsaber lit, the group followed the sewer passage. They didn't encounter anyone inside, and after an eternity a breath of fresh air wafted through the tunnel. Once they had reached the end, the pilot leapt out. There was a splash, and droplets of water twinkled briefly in the moonlight.

"It's over my head," Kaven called softly. "No rocks. Don't worry."

Six splashes followed this, and the group swam for shore.

* * *

"Are you hurt at all, Lieutenant?" Commander Dias asked of Jan, who was looking concerned again. They were near the base now, and although the battle was not what it had been hours before, it was not over.

"No, sir."

The older man nodded to where a sergeant was waiting by a landspeeder. "Go with him to General Kordis' landing site. There will be a shuttle waiting to take you to the _Imperial Dawn._"

"Commander?" Jan's brow furrowed, and then guarded hope lit his features when the thought that he might be reunited with Erril rose to mind. It was the ship his brother served on, after all.

"No questions, Kaven. Just go."

"Yes, sir."

Dias watched his former aide climb into the vehicle. _The New Empire's got them both now, _he thought. _Good-it's a start._

* * *

The group settled down under the cover of the trees. To their north was an open field. "The next transport will be here by dawn," Kaven said. "All we can do is wait until then."

Nova took off her wet robe and wrapped her arms around herself. Across from her, one of the soldiers was starting a fire; Sonalian nights were chilly. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Bal holding out his own robe, which was dry. She took it with a nod of thanks, and put it on.

From where he was leaning against a tree, Kaven nodded to Sutler. "You can borrow mine." He held up a hand. "No buts. Just take it and get out of those wet clothes."

The rebel officer sighed. "Again, thank you."

"How many made it?" Nova wondered aloud, as Sutler took the robe and went to the edge of the encampment. He began to unbutton his shirt, feeling a bit self-conscious in the female Jedi's presence. He may have been wet from head to toe, but he wasn't taking anything else off.

"I don't know," Kaven said. "Maybe half. Maybe less." He glanced over, and halted when he caught a glimpse of the lieutenant's back. "Did someone take the lash to you, or what?"

Sutler quickly slipped the robe over his shoulders at that, covering the scars. "The Empire doesn't look kindly on defectors," he said, guardedly.

The pilot didn't question him about it, and instead went to sit by the fire with Bal, who had spread his tunic on the ground before him. Sutler sat down a little farther away, resting his chin in one hand. He was only thirty, but at the moment he felt ten times that, and in the distance he could hear the sound of blaster fire from the base. Half a day and they had been wiped out; the Empire's power base may have been shrinking, but they were still very much a threat.

Nova sat down beside him, and he gave her an awkward half-smile. In the tunnels they had both been expecting to die, and although he hoped for the opposite, he would accept it if that moment had been a one-time only occurrence.

"Do you still feel the same way?" she asked, in a low voice.

"Yes," he said.

The Jedi considered, and then put her hand on his.

* * *

Bal awoke from dreams of lava the next morning to the sound of engines, and jumped to his feet. Running to the edge of the trees, the Jedi saw that the ship had arrived, and that bedraggled Republic troops were getting on it. There were no imperials in sight; either they were still occupied with the base and all the other Republic outposts on the planet, or they were deliberately letting their opponents run away to lick their wounds, which was not likely but not entirely difficult to see.

He woke the others, and they quickly made for the ship. They made it in time, and once the atmosphere had been breached, the Jedi saw with a start that two Dreadnought-class heavy cruisers were in orbit in that arc. Ominous as they were, the imperial ships did not fire as the Republic cruiser sped past, paused, and then made the jump to hyperspace.

"They're letting us go?" Bal shook his head. "This entire attack...it wasn't right."

From where he had been sitting, Kaven looked up at that. "Not right?"

"Those imperials trounced us," the Zabrak said. "All of a sudden two fleets and a host of cruisers show up, Stormtroopers and company take the planet in the course of one night, and then they let us get away. It's just...oh, I don't know how to put this...like they meant to oust us without destroying us entirely."

Kaven frowned. "Bal, less than half of the reb-the Republic troops managed to get out in time. The rest have been either killed, taken prisoner, or about to be one of those options."

"I know...I know." The Jedi rubbed his head, trying to decide how to put the impression he had gotten across. "But it felt...as if they could have done a lot more to us."

"Like they were pulling their punches," Nova murmured.

The pilot rubbed one temple. "Yes," he said after a moment, "you are right. The Empire could have destroyed us completely, and chose not to."

* * *

Kaven wandered the corridors of the ship as they shot through hyperspace, thinking about the attack and the New Empire and a host of other things. He hadn't slept the night before, and the short moments he had nodded off on the ship had been filled with uncomfortable dreams that had shaken him awake. He hated his dreams.

The Jedi wandered into the bathroom and leaned on a sink, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked the same as he ever had; there was none of the flatness in his eyes that had marked the eyes of the Reborn...yet. Perhaps it would be there someday. Perhaps it would come if he went to the dark side.

He trailed his fingers across one cheek, something that Roon Sarda had told him once floating up from the depths of his memory. It was after the Battle of Salamand. He closed his eyes and thought about the exchange they had had after disembarking from their ships.

_Roon. "Eighteen ships-the rebels didn't even have a chance to recall their pilots."_

_Kaven. "Not one survived."_

"_But it wasn't enough, not for any of us. We were...you were...unstoppable out there. Almost demonic. If there had been more, you would have kept on killing them."_

"_What are you afraid of? You were every bit as bloodthirsty."_

"_Yes. But Erril, your eyes..."_

_Kaven, impatient now and even a little harsh. "What about them?"_

"_They've turned yellow..."_

The pilot came back to the present at that, and checked his reflection once more-just in case. He looked normal, if a bit tired, and his eyes were the light green that they always had been. Roon must have been seeing things, back then; his eyes never _had _been yellow.

For a moment an almost claustrophobic feeling came upon him, and he wanted to be off this Republic ship and back with the New Empire, back with Captain Rathbone. He gripped the edge of the sink and reminded himself that he would be back with him soon enough, with a successful mission to report, and once he was there he would be allowed to use one of their holocrons. Perhaps he could see Jan, as well; Admiral Makar had mentioned that Captain Rathbone was probably arranging for his training as well.

_You _will _give him a choice...won't you, Captain? _he thought, a little nervously. He wasn't sure of how Jan was going to react when he found out that he was Force-sensitive and that he could be trained as an imperial knight, and he hoped that the captain was not intending to force him into that role. Kaven would just have to trust in the man's intentions and hope for the best.

* * *

Jan stood at attention when he saw the admiral heading his way. He had never really seen Admiral Makar before, although Erril had described the man as looking like someone's granddad, and that was accurate. He was rather short and he had the bushy eyebrows and the paternal moustache, and he even walked with a cane.

"Lieutenant Kaven," the old man said, as he closed with him. "I've heard that you were trying to make contact with me-about your brother Erril, I imagine."

"Yes, Admiral."

"It's been a busy few months. Come with me, young man-we'll be moving into hyperspace from here, and you'll be with us a few days at least."

"A few days?" Jan raised an eyebrow. "Where are we going, sir? If I may ask," he added.

"I may tell you later, if you're ready for it," Admiral Makar replied. "But for now, rest assured that we are going someplace quite safe, and that we will be meeting your brother there."

Relief stood out visibly on the young officer's face. "Erril! Finally!" he said. "But if he was part of the attack on Sonalia, why would Commander Dias send me here to go with you to see him, and not meet him planetside?"

"There is quite a reason for that," the old man replied. "But first, tell me, Lieutenant...have you ever heard of the New Empire?"

* * *

"You look worried about something," Bal observed.

Kaven looked up from where he had been watching their re-emergence from hyperspace. "Hmm? Oh. I was thinking about Arfour," he said. "He's in imperial hands now...I hate the thought of losing him."

"Attached to your droid?"

"He's a sentient being to me now," the Jedi replied. "I know we're not to get attached to things, but...I do. I always do. And Arfour's gotten to be a friend."

"It _is_-" Bal just gave up. "He _is _a quirky little guy."

"Where's Nova, anyway? I haven't seen her since we made the jump."

"With Sutler. I guess they've got a lot to talk about now." The Zabrak's expression was one of honest puzzlement. "You know, in the tunnels...I never saw that coming."

"I suspected the sentiment, but my timing was off. Jealous?"

"No-surprised!"

Kaven turned his gaze back to the window, where clouds rushed by in an impenetrable fog. "Which planet is this?"

"Infel."

"Just my luck."

* * *

"We've retreated to Infel, Captain," Kaven told Captain Rathbone via holoprojector later on. "The attack went without a hitch, and the rebels don't suspect a thing." He gave his account of the invasion, leaving nothing out, and the older man listened silently.

After the pilot had finished Captain Rathbone said, "I'll send someone to collect you. Go to Vesper spaceport tomorrow at 1100 hours."

"Yes, sir." Feeling unsure of whether he had attained the captain's approval or not, the Jedi asked, "Captain? M-my brother was part of the invading force. Is he still there-is he all right?"

"He is in Admiral Makar's hands now, and on his way to us. You'll be with him when you return."

Kaven relaxed. "Good."

* * *

The next morning he took a swoop and went out to the spaceport, reflecting on how different things were now from the last time he had gone there. There was no need to disguise himself, no need to mind-trick anyone this time, and he strolled past the port security without batting an eye.

_So who's picking me up? _he wondered, the breeze blowing his long robe back as he stepped onto the airfield. His gaze moved to a red, crustacean-looking ship, and he immediately thought: _Oh, _no_._

"Heeyyyyy, _flyboy!_" Kaven turned at the call, and saw Madeen waving at him from where she was leaning on a fuel feed.

"Madam, are you stalking me?" the pilot demanded good-naturedly as he walked over to where the bounty hunter was refuelling.

"I just happened to be in the neighbourhood, and got a call from a _certain _someone, who told me you needed picking up." Madeen shrugged. "So I figured I might as well, for old times' sake."

"For old times' sake, huh? You're working for us now?"

"Yeah. The captain liked the thought of having a bounty hunter on his payroll, what with the scheming and the planning and all. You ready to go?"

"Of course. Where are we going?"

"Can't say-and V won't tell me. He'll be piloting, anyway. Just come on, flyboy-let's get off-planet before your special luck takes hold."

"Too true."

* * *

With Lieutenant Verdan doing the astronavigation work, they made the jump to hyperspace, and when they emerged hours later, Kaven saw the looming form of a Star Destroyer before them. It was the _Imperial Dawn; _they must have returned to imperial space.

The officer opened the channel. "This is Lieutenant Verdan of the 777th," he said. "Mission objectives are complete. Requesting permission to land."

_777th Legion? _Kaven wondered. _We don't have _that _many left. Or do we?_

They were given permission, and once they had docked Verdan said, "They're waiting for you."

The pilot looked out the window, saw Admiral Makar and Jan standing there, and immediately went running out to greet them. When he saw his younger brother he started toward him, speeding up with each step.

"Erril," Jan said, his face lighting.

"Jan!"

"_Erril!_" They came together at a near run, throwing their arms around each other in a tight hug. "Stars, I worried about you."

Kaven kissed his brother's cheek. "I worried about you, too, Jan."

They parted to arms' length, and the lieutenant looked him over. "You're dressed like a Jedi," Jan said.

"Right...about that..."

His brother nodded in quiet acceptance. "You _are _a Jedi," he replied. "You can use the Force-and so can I, can't I?"

"Yes, Jan. You can."

"Your special training, then, it was that." At his older brother's nod, the imperial officer continued, "You know, I'd thought before that the mind-trick was something anyone could do if they worked hard enough at it, like magic tricks or something. But it really is a Jedi talent. Good thing we kept it to ourselves."

"You, me, and Lucian."

Jan's brow furrowed. "Erril, are mum and dad...?"

Kaven thought about that for a while, and then said, "I don't think so." A little grin appeared on his face and he added, "As exciting as it might be to think our parents are rogue Jedi, I think the Force-sensitivity hit us only."

There was the sound of a door sliding open, and the admiral said, "I do believe we have more company."

The pilot turned, and stood up straight when he saw Roon Sarda and Kore Berradeen heading for him. The two TIE pilots were still in their flight suits, apparently back from a routine patrol.

"Captain!" Roon exclaimed as she went to him, and to the shock of few kissed him on the lips, throwing her arms around his neck. Kaven reciprocated warmly, and when they had finished she said, "You look good. Very good." The male pilot had been attractive before, but there was a difference in his expression and bearing now, a touch of experience and maturity that she found she quite liked.

He felt good, too, the pilot decided. Whatever Kaven had been doing, it had involved a lot of physical activity and, although he was still lightly built, his muscles felt harder than before and he seemed stronger. She could feel the difference in his body.

Kaven saw her look and winked, and they separated. He turned to his other wing mate. "I hope you'll forgive me if I don't greet you the same way, Kore," he said.

The black-haired pilot shook his head. "I don't think I'd forgive you if you _did,_" he replied. "Welcome back, Captain."

"So, you're a Jedi now," Roon said, putting her hands on her hips and looking him up and down. "Naughty. You never told us a thing."

"He never told _me _anything," Jan added.

"Reunions are lovely things," the old admiral said, "but I must return to the bridge. We will be entering hyperspace shortly. Lieutenant Verdan-educate Lieutenant Kaven on what he's getting into."

"Yes, sir." Verdan nodded to Jan, and the two young men left the hangar along with the admiral.

Jan poked his head back in. "Come see me later, Erril," he told his brother, before leaving again.

Roon reached up and put a hand on Kaven's cheek, gently turning his face back to her. "Come see me now," she said.

* * *

Later on Kaven settled back against the pilot with a sigh. Roon draped herself over him, resting her chin on his shoulder, and said, "I missed you, you know."

He turned his head and gave her a wicked grin. "I could tell. And I missed you, too."

"_I _could tell. So you're an imperial Jedi now-or something like that?"

"I'm in the process of it. I'm aiming for the first imperial knight."

The young woman sighed. "I wish you could go back to being our flight officer again, Erril, but I suppose it's too late for that."

"It's too early to say it's too late," Kaven replied. "Perhaps a knight's duties aren't just with the army. The Jedi often took part in space battles, and I can't see any reason why an imperial one shouldn't do the same. I could fly with you two again yet."

Roon's arms squeezed him briefly in a hug. "You're right, of course. We'll just have to see. And your brother, he's going to be one of our new Jedi, too?"

"I'll leave that up to him. We'll talk about it."

The female pilot was silent for a while, and then grinned. "I think he thinks of me as your girlfriend," she said.

"What! You're _not?_" Kaven asked, feigning shock.

He got a little kiss in response. "You know what kind of friends we are."

"Very good ones."

"Right. Oh, you're going to see Jan now?"

Kaven was sitting up now, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "If Verdan's finished with him, I probably should. Where did you toss my trousers?"

Roon pointed across the room. "Over there, by my underpants. But Erril, you should let the lieutenant explain things before you go rushing in."

"I think I see where this is going..."

She leaned forward and grabbed him again, pulling him back. "Forget your pants for now," she said. "You won't need them."

* * *

Later Kaven met Jan in the guest's quarters that the young officer had been given. His brother was sitting on the bed when he came in.

He shut the door behind him. "I guess the lieutenant told you about the New Empire, huh."

"Admiral Makar told me," Jan replied, and moved aside to make room for his elder brother. "Lieutenant Verdan explained it in more detail. Then he said that I would have a choice-that I could join the army and work with the 777th, or that I could become an imperial knight." He paused. "I didn't know we had that many legions left."

The pilot sat down next to him. "I didn't think so, either. It sounds like Verdan 'defected' over to the New Empire and its personal legion."

Jan's brow furrowed a little. "What this faction is doing is really dangerous," he said softly. "The Reborn would destroy it if it were discovered."

Kaven nodded. "Yes. It could." He bit his lip thoughtfully, and then added, "If it were discovered, all the faction leaders would probably be executed for treason." He thought of Captain Rathbone and Captain Demarco, and a protective feeling rose in him. "I can't let that happen. I'm with the New Empire, to the very end."

His younger brother considered that a while, and then said, "If you weren't, I would have made you join, too."

"So you're with us?"

The younger man nodded. "I'm with you. I know about the Reborn now-maybe it sounds melodramatic, but they're evil, and if Emperor Palpatine was that way, too-then maybe it _is _time to turn things around." He settled down on his side, with his head propped in his hand. "But even if it weren't that way, you know I'd follow you anywhere, Erril."

Kaven settled down as well, lying on his side across from his brother and gazing at him, reflecting that they hadn't lain like this since they were boys. "I know, Jan. And that's so good to know."

They lay quietly for a while, listening to the soft hum of the engines and taking in each other's company. Now that he could actively look to the Force, Kaven found that Jan had quite a strong presence in it.

"Erril."

"Mm?"

Jan smiled. "I'll be an imperial knight."


	13. Chapter 12: Knighthood

**Chapter 12:**

**Knighthood**

_Canaida, the seat of the New Empire. A snowy planet located in the unknown regions beyond Imperial space._

_Ten hours later._

After they had emerged from hyperspace, Kaven and Jan boarded a _Lambda-_class shuttle and rode the rest of the way to a planet that the pilot was unfamiliar with. It was not an excessively long trip, perhaps an hour and a half before they had dropped back to sub light speed, cruising toward a small, white-and-green planet.

At his side Jan sat silently until they had breached the atmosphere, and then he said, "Commander Maldict had been part of the New Empire."

"So I heard," Kaven replied, his voice flat.

His brother bowed his head. "I guess I not only killed someone on our own side, but one of..._our _officers."

"You pushed him away. He fell, got lost, and got killed by something in the jungle, not you."

"I'm responsible for it, Erril," the lieutenant insisted. "If I hadn't pushed him..."

His lips thin, Kaven shot his brother a look that clearly read: _then you __**know **__what would have happened._ "If you hadn't defended yourself, you mean." He took a breath, knowing what his sibling was about, and continued, "Jan, you didn't kill Maldict and you're not responsible for his death, either."

"I don't know..."

"Look, just-forget about it, all right? And stop thinking that whole mess was your fault. It wasn't."

There was another long silence from Jan, as he turned that over in his mind, and then he finally asked, "Well, what's Captain Rathbone like? And how am I going to learn how to be a knight if there aren't any others to teach me? You're going to be too busy."

Kaven considered. "I've only spoken to the captain a couple of times," he admitted. "But he's reliable and it looks like he's got everything in hand. He's the one running the whole thing-among _our _fellows, he's practically the emperor."

"But is he trying to be...?"

"Right now he's probably more concerned with getting some Jedi of his own," the pilot told him. He patted Jan on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I think you'll get along. He's sort of aloof, but _I _like him..."

* * *

Captain Rathbone was standing with his hands laced behind his back when the shuttle touched down in the hangar, and Captain Demarco was at his side. The older man looked severe, but Jan saw as they disembarked that the sharpness was born more of strictness than anything else. By contrast the other captain looked quite affable.

"Captain," Kaven greeted him, stepping forward. For a moment he looked unsure of what to say, and then settled for, "Mission accomplished, sir."

"Well done, Erril," the captain replied. He looked at Jan. "Jan Kaven, I presume. There is quite the family resemblance."

"Yes, sir," Jan said, and hesitated. "I was briefed on the way here, and Erril told me that you were looking to build an order of imperial knights."

The captain's dark eyes flickered to Kaven for a moment. "Yes?" he inquired politely.

"If I may, I would like to be trained."

Captain Rathbone straightened at that. He really was very tall-1.91 metres, maybe, and fairly towered over the others. "You may," he said simply.

"Saves a lot of persuasion, doesn't it?" Kaven chimed in.

"I suppose so," Captain Demarco said, speaking for the first time. He looked to his superior. "Shall we show them the training hall, then?"

"We shall."

As they followed the captain, Demarco moved to walk beside Kaven. "Well done," he said to him. "Sonalia is fully occupied now."

"Thank the troops, not me," Kaven replied, but with a smile. "They did most of the work. I guess the really difficult missions are going to begin now, huh?"

* * *

The training hall was a large rectangular room with a row of windows along the opposite wall, and with thick red curtains on the far side. Captain Rathbone went to these, and then turned back to the brothers Kaven. "As there are no senior knights to teach you, you will both have access to the holocrons and documents that we have collected. It would be advisable for you to train together when you have the chance, as you will often be apart," he said. "There will be remotes and training droids available for combat lessons. On that note-" He reached behind him and tore the curtain aside, revealing a wall display of various weapons, most of which were various lightsaber models. "-these are what you will train with," he finished, presenting a hand.

Jan's eyes widened a little at the collection, but he looked rather delighted at it all. "Wow!" Kaven said. "You were really prepared for this."

The captain pointed to several lightsabers. "_These _are training sabres. A mishap will not cost you a limb, but contact will deaden that limb for several hours. Experiment with them and choose a model that suits you."

He stepped back and allowed Jan access to the display. The lieutenant picked up a very long lightsaber handle and turned it in his hands. "This is huge-oh, I see, it comes out both ends..." He put it back and selected a more standard model. This he ignited, swinging it gently to get the feel of the weight distribution.

"Going to play with everything you can?" Kaven asked.

"Yes," Jan replied firmly, with a trace of the twenty-one-year-old that he was. He brought the lightsaber up again, and its green light lit his face in sharp relief. "I've never even seen a lightsaber in real life, and now I'm to be taught to handle one." He let out a laugh of shock. "I'm going to be a-an imperial Jedi!"

"Welcome to the New Empire, Jan. That reminds me-what planet is this? This isn't the same base as before."

"You're on Canaida now," Demarco told him. At Kaven's blank look, he continued gently, "It's the core world of our faction, and it's not in the galactic register. We're quite firmly in the Unknown Regions."

"Sneaky. Why don't you show me around the base, then?"

"Er...me?"

"Unless Captain Rathbone would rather give me the grand tour, yes. As of now, I'm your knight in training." Kaven smiled disarmingly. "I'd hate to wander off on my own and get lost."

Demarco looked to his superior, who gave him a curt nod and said, "Do as you wish. The lieutenant and I will be busy for some time."

The young captain turned back to the pilot. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt..."

* * *

Canaida was an icy, snowy place, but it was warmer than Hoth and didn't have any wampas, two points that counted in its favour in Kaven's eyes. It reminded him more of a ski resort than an icy wasteland, and the cold didn't have that deathly edge to it that Hoth did, at least not that day.

"How long have you been here?" Kaven asked. They had stopped at a junction in the corridor, and he stood at the side of a high window overlooking a blank snowy field. "With the New Empire, I mean."

"Two years," Demarco replied, setting his hands on the windowsill. "It's grown considerably." He looked over his shoulder at the pilot. "Most of it is made up of groups and individuals from all over. We're something of a...patchwork."

Kaven nodded. They had spoken to a number of officers and even some Stormtroopers, and it seemed everyone had come from a different regiment, a different planet, a different legion, before joining the New Empire. One man they had met had been one of only twelve survivors of the disastrous Mesa Dar campaign; he and his comrades had joined after being rescued, and theirs was not the only story of that nature. "And you're constantly recruiting."

"Right. We're not...powerful...enough to get rid of the Reborn faction yet, but we will be."

"Yeah. We will be." The Jedi stared out the window. He was no prophet, but he was sure that the New Empire could rise someday. Between now and then every moment would be a struggle, but he was willing to go through with it.

He followed Demarco further through the base, waiting patiently whenever the captain stopped to check something. Demarco might have been his age, but he was still one of the New Empire's basic administrators. Some of the personnel looked curiously at Kaven, who just as often returned the scrutiny with a smile and a nod.

"You're popular, I take it," he commented to Demarco, as they stepped into the elevator.

"What makes you say that?" the officer inquired, reaching out and pressing a button. The door slid shut.

"Some of the women here have a way of looking at you that doesn't exactly suggest uncontrollable hatred," Kaven told him. "It seems to me you're a ladies' man, Captain."

Demarco looked a little embarrassed at that. "I don't try to be."

"I'm jealous."

"_You're _jealous...?"

"Well, only a little. I _like _flirting."

The captain's lips moved a little as he searched for something to say, but in the end he merely settled for, "Heh, I can see that."

They moved upward in blameless silence for a few seconds, and then Kaven said casually, "Maybe it's the pausing. I ought to learn that."

"Maybe it's the...?" Demarco gave him a strange look out of the corner of his eye. "What are you talking about?"

The pilot flashed a mischievous smile at him. "When you're talking, you often...pause...at things and then move on, and when you do that your voice goes lower. Makes whatever you say a bit suggestive-sounding. Not that it's a bad thing," he added, seeing the look of bewilderment on Demarco's face. "Rather sexy, actually-I should learn how to do it."

The officer took a breath. "I don't try to make what I say sound...suggestive..." Perhaps hearing the incriminating dip in his own voice, he flushed and became silent. Kaven laughed.

Demarco's ears were still pink when they stepped out of the elevators, and a lieutenant in a black uniform turned at their footsteps. Catching sight of the Jedi, the officer's face lit a little and he came to them. He was about Kaven's age, with light green eyes and a pale face. "So you're the one Captain Rathbone has been preoccupied with," he said.

"I guess I am," Kaven replied, and extended a hand. "Erril Kaven."

The lieutenant merely smiled. "I know."

At Kaven's bemused look the smile grew a bit, and he added, shaking his hand, "Lugosi Gammell. Intelligence."

"That explains it."

A door at their side opened and another man came in. He was about forty, with brown hair and a vaguely feline face. "So, you're that Jedi that Rathbone's so interested in," he said, looking Kaven up and down as he came to stand at Gammell's side. He crossed his arms, smiling a little. "Well, well."

Demarco shifted. "Erril, this is Major Kaine," he said. "Major...Erril Kaven, in turn."

There was something between the two men that suggested Demarco and Kaine's relationship was not a truly friendly one, but that something was subtle and the Jedi couldn't put his finger on it. "The hero of Salamand," Kaine remarked, "and another captain, if my memory hasn't failed me."

"Yes, sir," Kaven replied. "Although I'm not a captain anymore."

"Given certain trends, that may just change."

Captain Demarco's lips thinned just a little at that, but before he could say anything they were interrupted by Captain Rathbone, whose footfalls only just became audible when he was within six metres of them.

"The both of you, come with me. I have an assignment for you," the older man informed them, nodding to Kaven and Demarco. "As well as you, Lieutenant-go see your commander at once."

Gammell nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Captain, I've heard reports that the campaign on Shanast is not going well," Kaine said. "If we took action, we could merge with them and take the planet for ourselves."

"I already have plans for Shanast, Major," the captain replied-a bit severely, as if he had heard it all before. "When the time comes, you'll have your fill of action. Until then, we all have our duties to attend to."

Kaine's expression remained neutral. "Yes, Captain."

* * *

"Before you leave on assignment, I'll have you teach your brother to activate a holocron," Captain Rathbone said, once he had finished briefing them and the three were alone again, "as they are operable to Force-users only."

"Will do, Captain. He's starting his training already?"

"He was most insistent. As it is, he is currently in the training hall, reading about the Jedi and their ways."

"I hope he's not on one of his studying binges," Kaven said to himself, thoughtfully. The pilot had never been much good at hitting the books, but Jan could get into it so deeply that he would usually be found asleep the next morning with his head on the desk and the book lying open or the computer still on before him. Kaven might find him in such a state by the time he and Demarco returned from Coruscant.

"When you're ready, come to the hangar," Demarco told him. The pilot nodded and left, and the captain gazed after him, his expression thoughtful.

"Mind your mission," Captain Rathbone said.

His second flushed. "I wasn't thinking about...that," he said uncomfortably, "Just the other thing. You're certain, sir...?"

"Yes. But I don't intend to rely on him wholly," the older man added, with characteristic impersonality. "It may be we've found the right man, but I cannot allow room for mistakes." He was silent a moment, and then added, in a low voice, "He may not be the one."

"I think he..." The young captain paused as well. "...I don't know. She said that...right...but I don't know."

They turned to each other. "If, and I do mean _if, _the time comes to carry out the order," Captain Rathbone said, his voice heavy, "can I rely on you to do so?"

Demarco's brow wrinkled. "Yes," he said at last. "Yes. But I hope it won't come to that."

The older man nodded. "As do I."

* * *

"Got it?" Kaven asked.

"I think so," Jan said. He lifted the holocron in his hands. "I'll study hard while you're gone."

"Just don't let me find you passed out with a holocron in one hand and a book in the other when I get back," his brother replied. "There _are _better homecoming gifts."

Jan's cheeks turned pink. "I won't overdo it. Just take care of yourself, Erril. Uh...'May the Force be with you.'"

Kaven smiled. "And with you."

* * *

As he approached the Ghost, Kaven nearly did a double-take when he saw the man standing beside it.

"What?" asked Demarco.

"You're looking remarkably casual compared to an hour ago, that's what." Kaven put his hands on his hips and made a show of giving Demarco a once-over. The young captain had changed out of his uniform and into civilian clothing, and he now wore an olive-green shirt and khaki trousers. The shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, and had not been tucked into his belt. "Actually, you look like you belong on a university campus," the pilot added.

"It wouldn't do for me to wear my...uniform...on Republic Coruscant, now would it?"

"No, you'd have everyone on your back immediately," the Jedi said with a smile. "'Look, there's an imperial, let's get him!' and so on. Shall we?"

"We shall."

* * *

After they had made their jump, Kaven sat back with his feet on the dash and his hands behind his head. "So, how long has Captain Muttonchops been directing this orchestra?" he asked, watching the stream.

Beside him, Demarco blinked. "Captain M-Erril!"

"Nothing meant by it," the pilot said blithely. "If I could pull off sideburns like that, I would certainly grow a pair of my own. Anyway, he _is _the undisputed leader of the New Empire, hm? I imagine he founded it?"

"He did. He and Admiral Makar founded it and he put together the 777th and collected the personnel and found Canaida and Kantos out of which to base ourselves."

"Amazing."

"Yes. Perhaps he should really be called _Commander, _but he prefers to be called Captain." The young man nodded. "I'm just 'Captain' Demarco, too. I think he's rubbing off on me."

He felt Kaven's eyes on him. "How'd you meet?" the pilot asked.

Demarco shifted. "Erm...by chance. I was in a mood to complain, and he listened to me. It went from there."

The Jedi thought about that for a while. Finally he asked, "Do you really think we can overthrow the Empire? We're so...small."

"We're not out to overthrow the Empire...just change it. Yes-anything is possible, with the right planning."

Kaven closed his eyes. "Size doesn't matter," he said reflectively. "Or so the Jedi say." He thought of Bal and Nova, and wondered if they were to meet again. Probably not, unless the Fates would have it that they clashed in the future, as Empire versus Republic. For just a moment he wondered if he could persuade them over to the imperial side, but concluded that he wasn't _that _charismatic. "What will you do at the Jedi Temple? I'm not sure if they'll let you in. I might have to convince them."

"There's no need for mind-tricks on my behalf. You're the Jedi, I'm the pilot. So I'll wait with the ship." Demarco tapped his fingers on the dash. "I vanished from imperial records two years ago. They won't know my face."

* * *

They touched down at the Jedi Temple as soon as they had reached Coruscant, and when they disembarked they were surrounded by Republic soldiers.

"This area is off-limits to the general public," the sergeant said to Kaven. It was not the same man from his trip with Talos.

"I am aware of that, sergeant. I'm here on Jedi business," the pilot replied, and let his robe fall open just enough for the man to see the lightsaber that hung at his hip. The sergeant's eyes moved then to Demarco, and Kaven added, "My friend will stay behind with the ship."

The soldier nodded and let him through. _I can see why the captain sent me on a trip like this, _he thought, as he walked into the broken temple. _As far as they're concerned, I'm affiliated with the Republic. The New Empire's sent me while they still can..._

Nothing had changed about the ruin of the Jedi Temple, and as before Kaven found himself thinking about the rise of the Empire thirty years before, when the 501st Legion, led by Darth Vader, had marched into the temple to execute Order 66. Kaven's only knowledge of Vader had been as the imposing, black-clad figure that Lucian had described to him, and he wondered if the Sith Lord had been that same armoured nightmare back then. Vader would have been around _his _age, he realized.

With an inexplicable shiver the Jedi made his way through the crumbling corridors to the library. The shelves of records had been badly damaged, but he might still find something there worth salvaging.

He looked up at all the shelves. _Demarco's going to die of boredom out there while I'm sifting through all this, _he thought, balking at it all. _Nonetheless...I suppose it's what has to be done, what with the directory out of commission..._

Walking through the aisles to see what areas had suffered least, he began to pick at the records that still looked serviceable. Over the hours that followed, he found that most of the files were either corrupted or deleted, and that there was very little left. Tangible documents and scrolls would have been a wonderful find, but Kaven supposed that Emperor Palpatine would have had them all destroyed. What had not been burned had probably been taken into his private collection, if ever the old man could stomach the presence of Jedi paraphernalia.

_And I _served _Palpatine once! _he thought in disgust, tossing aside a badly-crunched case and disc. _He may have been dead by the time I joined the service, but it's like he never died. He was such a part of it, I suppose; a Sith and his Empire..._

He continued checking the files, and found one that contained some usable data. The holo-disc was not in especially good shape, and the file was fragmented and skipped often, but the information on it could be useful. It detailed some training techniques used at the temple. He slipped it into an inner pocket of his robe.

More time passed, and eventually, frustrated at having found no more usable discs, Kaven decided to give it up for a spell and wander the temple. It was probably going to be the last time he ever visited the Jedi Temple, and he wanted to burn it into his memories.

Reaching out through the Force, trying to get a better sense of this place, he walked the silent corridors in ghostlike silence himself, the only sounds the gentle rasp of his cloak brushing the floor.

_The Jedi have served the Republic for over three thousand years, _he thought. _But I serve the Empire. Can there be such a thing as an imperial Jedi? Am I one? Or did I throw away any prospect of Jedi knighthood for imperialism?_

Eventually there might be answers to these questions, he decided, but right now they were not forthcoming, and there were other matters to focus on for the time being.

The hallway he entered was long and wide, and along the walls were doors that led, presumably, to the quarters of the long-dead Jedi that had lived here. With a wave of his hand Kaven pried one of them open and went in.

These quarters were not quite as stark as Talos' grotto on Feladorn, though they were certainly monklike in their simplicity. Jedi were discouraged from owning many things, and the Jedi that had lived here was certainly a follower of that philosophy. A spare brown cloak hung in the closet, but otherwise there were few personal effects. Likely the Jedi had been one of those sent to the Outer Rim during the Clone Wars. Probably dead now.

Kaven sat down on the bed, raising a little puff of dust as he did so, and told himself that cursing Palpatine and his treachery was not going to change a thing.

As he shifted, something poked his bum. "Not only discouraged from owning things, but lumpy mattresses, too," he murmured, but found that it felt quite different from an ordinary lump when he shifted again. He got up and turned around, feeling the mattress with his hands. He couldn't feel anything, but when he pressed very hard, he felt something pointy move against his palm. "Something's...?"

He ignited his lightsaber and made a long cut, then returned the weapon to his belt and thrust both hands into the mattress. Something cold and hard touched his fingers, and he took hold of it. His green eyes widened in shock as he found out what it was. A holocron, a Jedi holocron. It was a small pyramid, fashioned together out of countless interlocking bits of metal, and the base of it was about the size of a woman's palm.

Both shaken and pleased at having found something that the Empire had missed in its ransacking, Kaven activated the device.

Immediately the holographic image of a slim human man with blonde hair and a short, neat beard appeared. For a moment Kaven wondered if he had inadvertently stumbled upon the holocron of Obi-Wan Kenobi and came close to dropping the thing, but as the man introduced himself he found that it was not, in actuality, the most famous of the Jedi. The man's name was Sora Ky, and he had made the holocron as a record and a diary during the Clone Wars.

Knowing that he might get too involved in it, Kaven resisted the urge to delve into the holocron and deactivated it, resolving to speak to this Master Ky upon returning to Canaida-in the meantime, he had his orders, and they were to check the archives for usable content. He dropped the holocron into his pocket and left the room.

* * *

Demarco was sitting atop the wall with his chin in his palms when Kaven emerged, and he seemed lost in thought. The Jedi marvelled at him as he came closer, reflecting that if he hadn't known better, he would never have taken the young man for an officer of the Empire, much less a high-ranking one. Kaven had never been any good at hiding his imperial background, but Demarco's disguise was absolute; if anyone noticed the small hints of militariness about him, they would assume that he served with the Republic.

Kaven grinned. That was one thing Demarco had on his superior; Captain Rathbone could surely never pass for anything _but _imperial.

The young captain looked over, and his face lit when he saw Kaven. He slid down. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

The pilot winked. "Yes. The masters at the Academy will definitely be interested in this."

Demarco's lips curved in a knowing little smile. "Back to Yavin IV?"

"At once."

* * *

"Hope you weren't too bored," he commented, once they were back on the _Ghost _and preparing for their hyperspace leap. "The records were in shambles and the directory was out."

"No. I'd been chatting with the guards for some time, and checking up on news across the galaxy. I'll spare you the details, if you'd rather not hear them."

Kaven yawned. "Maybe later, Demarco. I'm going to work a bit with that holocron and then catch a nap." He rose, slipping a hand into his pocket. "Wake me if you get tired, then. I _am _still the pilot between us."

"Yes...But I do have my...duties." Perhaps remembering what Kaven had said about his verbal tic, Demarco's cheeks reddened a little and he added hastily, "Go rest up. I'll wake you."

* * *

Sora Ky proved to be the fount of knowledge that Kaven had hoped for, and to his secret delight he found that although the Jedi knew so much more than he did, he was not overly strict and was even somewhat maverick. The pilot listened to the man drone on in his gentle voice, asking questions of him every now and then, until his head grew heavy and he deactivated the device and lay back on his bunk. As he closed his eyes, he thought of Captain Rathbone and hoped that the older man would be pleased with his findings.

* * *

Although Demarco tried to remain wakeful as they journeyed back to Canaida, he had had very little sleep over the past few days and the long, idle hours on Coruscant had not helped any. Finally he left the cockpit and went to where Kaven lay sleeping, and his eyes moved over the neat geometry of his features before he put a hand on the pilot's shoulder and whispered, "Erril."

Kaven's green eyes opened, and moved to the captain standing over him. "That time already, is it," he murmured. Demarco straightened as the pilot sat up, and when he cocked a curious eyebrow the officer remembered himself and took his hand from his shoulder.

"If you want," he said simply.

His companion stretched. "Sure. I said I would." He put on his robe as he followed Demarco into the cockpit, and flopped down in the pilot's seat. The captain sank down at his side, looking as though he were about to nod off, and Kaven smiled thoughtfully.

"I can feel how tired you are," he commented.

"There's always so much to do."

"Feels like you need a holiday." Kaven laughed softly. "I've a good mind to take you to Zeltros. Or Caerul."

"Good places to relax, those..."

Demarco was fading fast, he saw. A strong sense of mischief rose in him and he added, "So, how about we swing by Zeltros on the way, stop for a night or two?"

The captain sat up. "Not on a _mission_!"

The pilot laughed again, this time with more feeling. "I'm just having you on, Demarco. Of _course _not on a mission, I'm not _that _terrible." He smiled at his partner. "Only a bit terrible."

The officer settled back again, with a noncommittal noise.

"Bet you'd sleep like a baby in the right girl's arms," Kaven continued.

Demarco's eyes opened. "You're right," he said, his voice muzzy with oncoming sleep. "That would be nice." His eyelids fell again. "And, Erril?"

"Mm?"

"You _are _terrible."

"But you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?" Kaven asked. When Demarco didn't respond, he looked over and saw that the captain had finally fallen asleep.

_Sweet dreams, Captain, _he thought, turning his attention back to the controls.

* * *

A bump brought Demarco back from the warm seas of sleep, and he found himself half lying in the co-pilot's chair with his arms crossed and his head at an odd angle, and a length of warm brown cloth had been draped over him. He found with slow surprise, as he sat up, that Kaven had put his robe over him at some point. He gingerly bent his head from side to side, massaging his neck.

"Awake at last!" a man's voice said from behind him, and Demarco turned to see Kaven standing in the doorway with his arms braced up on the jamb. He was just in his shirtsleeves now, and as he spoke a wicked smile crossed his face. "Well, we've docked at Canaida, and you just missed my ten-point landing. Shame about the engineer, though-I'm joking, I'm _joking_!"

"Uh! You _are _terrible!"

"Just not at piloting."

"We'll see about that." Demarco bent his head again, still working the kink out of his neck. "Hmm. You should have woken me."

"Maybe. But you looked so cute sleeping there, I just didn't have the heart to do it." Kaven's expression sobered. "But I was serious when I said I felt your fatigue." The officer handed him his robe, and he shrugged into it. "_I'm_ all right, I have the Force-but don't knock yourself out on my account."

Demarco ran a hand through his black hair. "Well, let's just get those records back to the captain."

Kaven nodded and they disembarked, leaving the hangar and starting for Captain Rathbone's office. They made a strange pair to be walking through an imperial base, the Jedi in his long robes and the officer in casual civilian dress, but they received nothing more than the odd curious glance as they went.

They had been cutting through a small lounge when Kaven came to a halt and turned back to Demarco. "Neck still hurting?"

"Well...it's stiff," the officer replied.

Kaven pointed to one of the seats. "Sit down."

"B-Why?"

"I'll give you a hand." The pilot rubbed his own neck. "Try sitting in a TIE for four hours or longer at a stretch. I bet there's not a single pilot who _can't _work at least a little knot out. We're always doing this. Just sit down."

Demarco liked a massage, but the thought of getting one from Kaven made him tense a little. Nonetheless, he succumbed to the pilot's insistence and sank into a chair, folding his hands in his lap. The Jedi tugged his gloves off. "You don't need to do this," he said, the words jolted out of him as Kaven's warm hands settled on his neck.

"Maybe not," Kaven replied. "Sympathy, you see. Or empathy. Whichever one I meant..." He trailed off as he concentrated on the job, probing gently with his fingertips and working out the knots with his thumbs.

"Relax," he ordered, when Demarco began to squirm out of embarrassment, and the captain clasped his hands harder and sat still. It did feel nice, but he had to remind himself that it was all very casual for pilots. He tried to relax and let Kaven work on him, staring industriously at a ceramic teapot sitting on the counter by the wall. Steam rose from its spout. He closed his eyes.

He heard the door slide open. "Hullo, Captain," Kaven said.

Demarco's eyes flew open, and he looked with shock to Captain Rathbone, who had just come in. A guilty flush settled in his cheeks.

"By all means," said Captain Rathbone dryly, as he began to pour himself a cup of tea, "don't let me interrupt you."

"Er," Demarco began, and found that he couldn't find a thing to say.

The older man's dark eyes held some amusement as he leaned against the wall, one arm curled beneath his elbow and the other holding the steaming cup before his lips. He blew on it gently. "Were you successful, then?"

"The Empire did a thorough job on those records," Kaven said, still rubbing Demarco's neck, "I recovered only one that works, though it's in rather rotten condition." He stopped massaging and let go of him. He then turned to their commander and reached into his robe. "On the other hand, I found _this._"

Captain Rathbone's gaze lit on the holocron, and he froze. "What...?"

"It belonged to the Jedi Knight Sora Ky," the young man added, triumphantly.

At that the captain actually broke into a smile. "How_ever_ did you find-no. I understand. The luck of pilots," he said.

"Right." Seeing Captain Rathbone's evident pleasure gratified Kaven more than he had expected. "I took the chance to talk to Master Ky on the way back. He seems like a good teacher for Jan."

Demarco took the opportunity to get to his feet. The guilty colour had gone from his cheeks, and when he reached up to his neck he found that it was no longer sore. "Have there been any new developments since we left?"

"In part. I shall provide you with the details in my office," the captain told him. He held out a hand and Kaven passed the holocron to him. "You'll have your next mission briefing soon enough," he added, folding his long fingers over it.

"Does that mean I've got free run around Canaida till then?" the pilot asked.

"In a manner of speaking. I expect you'll stay on base, however."

"Yes, Captain. Well...if you don't need me, then..."

The two captains watched Kaven's departing back. "To his brother, no doubt," Captain Rathbone said. Then he turned to Demarco. "Once you're back in uniform, come to my office. I'm expecting a visitor, and it wouldn't do to appear quite so...casual."

"No, of course not. This visitor, is it...? Yes." Demarco nodded. "Right away, sir."

* * *

It seemed Jan had chosen the standard style of lightsaber for himself, and was currently in the training hall eyeing a remote warily. When Kaven walked in, his brother's eyes moved to him and he immediately straightened, but paid for it with a zap from the remote.

He jumped. "Ouch! Erril, you're back from Coruscant already? The mission wasn't aborted, was it?"

"Already?" asked Kaven. "Jan, we've been gone three days." He waved a hand as he approached, and the remote backed off. "Did the captain put you up to this?"

"No. I wanted to try it."

"Thought so. The captain would probably insist that you, oh, not hold a lightsaber like a baseball bat, and-" He adjusted his younger brother's grip on the weapon, "-that learning a few defensive moves first would be a good idea. Like this. And this. And...that. Right."

"The captain's very strict." Jan swung the training blade experimentally, in the motion Kaven had just taught him. "It's amazing, Erril. He's a captain but everyone reports to him, even the colonels. It's just a title, isn't it? He organizes it all."

"He could command an emperor, Jan." Kaven nodded approvingly at his brother's improved posture. "We retrieved a holocron from the old Jedi Temple. I think you ought to use it."

"I used one. I wanted to learn how to move things around. The Jedi trapped inside wouldn't tell me how to do it, though."

Kaven snorted at that. "They're not trapped inside! They're illusionary, touchable records you can talk to. It's not like dealing with a computer or watching a display. You're really...well...talking to a person."

"I guess...he didn't trust me, then?"

"He probably decided you weren't ready for it. You'll need to pace yourself...just learn your way around things first."

"Er, right..."

* * *

Smoothing his uniform with one gloved hand, Demarco left his quarters and started for Captain Rathbone's office. He felt certain that the briefing that the older man would give him would have to do with either the Reborn, the Shanast issue, or perhaps a few of their contacts. Maybe all of that-the plans they had carefully laid had begun to bloom, and the young officer understood that they were on the verge of something large. They had a knight now, and another in training. It _was _the beginning of something...

_Three years ago I never thought I'd be involved in anything like this, _he mused, his thoughts moving back to the night he and Captain Rathbone had met. On that evening a newly-promoted Captain Demarco had ranted his discontent to the older man, who had sat quietly through the whole tirade with his long fingers laced beneath his chin, his dark grey eyes watching him studiously as he listened to every word.

Later on he had walked the young captain back to his quarters and had bid him a good night before leaving. The next morning Demarco had found a note that had been tucked surreptitiously into his pocket and, through the grainy ache of a hangover, had read it carefully. And then he had read it again, this time in disbelief.

He'd had the choice to turn his back on all of this, to walk away and choose instead the life of easy decadence the Empire offered him. That life had never satisfied him, and it had never become him, and in the end he chose to take up with the enigmatic Captain Rathbone. He was aware that it could get him killed eventually, but strangely enough, that thought didn't bother him. He was right where he ought to be.

Why the older man had chosen to take him as his second was a mystery to Demarco, who was sure that his conduct that night had been nothing but unbecoming, but he was determined to live up to the expectations that Captain Rathbone had of him.

His thoughts shifted as he realized that the steady click of his heels was not the only sound in the corridor, and that a rapid light clicking was coming closer. He came to a halt and looked over his shoulder.

He was surprised to see a little girl with blonde pigtails that were tied up with pink ribbons turn the corner and come charging down the hall. She looked about four years old, or maybe five-yes, five, he saw, as she got closer.

"Where's the girls' bathroom!" she cried.

It was directly at his left. Bemused, Demarco pointed, and she dashed in. _Surely the captain knows she's here? _he thought, wondering what he ought to be doing about this. _Well...I'm sure she'll be fine, _he added mentally, and continued on.

* * *

Later on Kaven left Jan to his studies in order to explore the facility, feeling as though he should get to know their base of operations very well. It was a big place, and Kaven wasn't a quarter of the way through before he met up with Lieutenant Verdan.

Verdan was one of the few people here he had any real acquaintance with, and so he fell into step beside him. The taciturn officer glanced at him, but made no comment. "So, you knew about the New Empire before?" Kaven asked him, after a while.

"I'd learned sometime after starting the search for you," Verdan replied. He didn't have the Core accent most imperial officers had, so the pilot reasoned that he was from somewhere on the Outer Rim. "I never knew where it was based from till I got transferred here."

"Seems to be how it goes. So, how's Madeen doing?"

Verdan looked at him. "Hm?"

"Well, she's working for us now, isn't she?"

The lieutenant looked back to the corridor. "She's on the job right now," he said.

"Tracking down-what's that girl doing here?"

Verdan turned, and both men watched in surprise as a little girl in a pink dress went charging by, pigtails flapping. She turned the corner and was gone. There was a moment of struck silence before the lieutenant merely said, "Somebody's daughter," and started walking again.

Kaven thought about the direction the girl had taken, and blinked. "She's not...Captain Rathbone's?"

* * *

"Indeed," said Captain Rathbone, to his visitor's question. "That will be taken care of."

"But I have one other concern, sir," said Commander Tanis. He stood before the captain with his hands resting at his sides. The older man motioned for him to continue. "My family. I'm not certain whether I am considered missing in action or defected, but if I'm going to be considered an imperial traitor-then I want to make sure they're safe."

"That," the captain told him, "has been accounted for. Your wife has informed me that she wishes to settle on Kantos."

"That-that will do," Tanis replied, visibly relieved.

"Any other concerns, Commander?"

"No, sir."

"Then welcome to the New Empire."

At that moment the door slid open, and as a little blonde girl ran in Captain Rathbone rose from his seat. He caught a glimpse of Kaven in the hall; the Jedi flashed him a questioning look, which melted into understanding as Tanis turned and scooped the child up. His movement attracted the attention of the knight, whose expression lit in recognition when he saw the commander's face.

"Lyra, you mustn't run into people's offices like that," the officer said, shifting his arm to form a seat for her.

"Okay, daddy." She reached up and took his hat, and then pointed to Kaven as she put the oversized thing on. "He opened the door for me."

At that Captain Rathbone crossed his arms and gave Kaven a look. "Well, she couldn't reach the pad," the pilot said.

Tanis turned to him, and froze when he saw who it was his daughter was pointing at, his mouth opening a bit in surprise. He and Kaven exchanged a long look, and then he said, "It's you...from the installation."

"Yes," Kaven said.

There was another silence. "The Republic military came not long after I gave the order to evacuate...I owe you, I guess..."

"Don't worry about it. But...weren't you part of the Reborn..?"

"Not anymore," Tanis said firmly, as his daughter struggled to make his hat fit. He looked down at the girl. "Where's your mother?" She shrugged. He sighed. "Captain...I think I had best go find my wife. May I?"

"Dismissed," said the captain, rubbing his temple. "There's a shuttle waiting in the launch bay to take you to Kantos."

"Yes, sir." The commander started to go, but then stopped in the doorway and turned back to Kaven. "And, you-thank you."

He left. The pilot looked back to his captain, who said, "So, _you _were the Jedi that, for some reason, spared a Reborn commander's life at the installation."

"No regrets," Kaven said.

"Yes-and a fortuitous decision. But whatever possessed you to let a small child into my office?"

"Cute kid. I thought she was yours," the pilot said, with a smile.

Captain Rathbone sighed. "I have no children, Erril. I do, on the other hand, have a lot of work to do."

Kaven got the hint. "I'll leave you to it, Captain."

"Thank you."

The pilot turned and left, and the door slid shut behind him. The officer crossed to the window and gazed out thoughtfully at the snowy hills. _No regrets? _he thought. _Certainly not._

* * *

Even so far above the lava, the air was filled with sparks and the heat was intense. Beads of sweat stood out on the foreheads of the two men on the walkway, and flashes of light erupted as their lightsabers clashed. One of them was a Jedi; the other was...something else.

The other's presence in the Force was dark with anger as they came together again, and the lines of his face were harsh as they stared at each other over the blades.

"You don't have to do this," said the Jedi.

In response the other only broke from him, and before the Jedi could dodge aside his opponent's booted foot came up, cracking him in the face. He fell on his back, and then abruptly rolled aside. The lightsaber blade bit into the walkway where he had lain only a second before. The man's lips thinned at having missed, and the Jedi hit him with the Force, sending him flying backwards. He hit the walkway hard with a grunt, and the lightsaber was jarred from his hand. He reached for it with one black-gloved hand, and his opponent pulled it away through the Force, catching it.

"Won't you see reason now?" the Jedi asked, extinguishing his blade.

"I _have _seen reason," the other snarled. He began to get up.

"No, just-look at what's happened to you!" The Jedi gestured to the man, to his black clothing and harsh expression. "If you continue like this, you _will _be lost to the dark side-and the man _I _knew never wanted that."

"Shut up! The things I do-are necessary," the man replied. His cape blew a little in the fiery breeze as he came closer. Now they stood less than four metres apart.

"Necessary? You were _murdering _imperials!"

"They were threats. It's the high cost of power. I am to leave no tracks-no witnesses." The Dark Jedi sighed, and for a moment he looked like his old self, albeit tense and exhausted. "Give me my lightsaber back."

"You've done enough with it," the Jedi said flatly.

"_You think I'm enjoying this!_" the man shouted at him. "I _hate _it! Everything I've done, every bloody little thing-it's all necessary! All for the Empire...my new Empire..." He took a step forward. "Give me that lightsaber. Or I'll take it from you."

"How different can _this _Empire be from the old one, if this is how it starts?" The Dark Jedi raised a hand. "Just _listen _to yours-ghhk-"

His hand in a position reminiscent of holding someone by the throat, the other took a step forward. "I didn't want to do this," he said. "I thought maybe, just maybe, I could let you go-or convince you, somehow."

Black stars had begun to flash before the Jedi's eyes. Unexpectedly, the younger man let him go and, as the Jedi took a deep breath, pulled the curved lightsaber handle from his hand.

The Dark Jedi caught and ignited it. "But I can't," he added. "The captain said I was to leave no one alive..."

* * *

Bal Kodar's eyes opened and he half sat up, reaching for his lightsaber even before he realized that he had been dreaming.

He wiped his brow, and his hand came away damp. He was soaked with sweat. His breathing slowing to normal, the Jedi sat up fully and swung his feet over the side of the bed. It was _that _dream again-the same one he had had on Sonalia the night of the invasion. It was a little clearer than before, and he knew now that he was the Jedi in the dream.

The Dark Jedi, though-who was he? The Zabrak closed his eyes and tried hard to picture the man he had been fighting. Tall, dressed in a black tunic and cape and with a red sash around his waist. Dark hair. He couldn't bring the face to mind. He couldn't identify the place.

Bal rose and went to the window, opening it and letting the night's breeze blow through the room. He wasn't sure if the dream was prophetic or not; he had never been privy to that kind of thing before. Nova had never been that way, either.

The Jedi wasn't in her room, but he felt her nearby, and as he leaned on the sill Bal caught a glimpse of two figures standing on a terrace below, talking. One was tall and spare, the other shorter and robed.

Opting to give Nova and Sutler their privacy, the Zabrak stepped back from the window and went back to his bed, settling down with his hands interlaced behind his head. Nova and the lieutenant had been circling each other since leaving Sonalia, and it was best to just let them sort things out on their own.

Bal frowned. They hadn't seen Kaven since the first night they had spent on Infel, come to think of it. The ex-officer had wandered down to Vesper a week ago and hadn't come back. The Empire was still after him, and Bal had begun to wonder if he hadn't been kidnapped. They had tried to contact him via holoprojector, but they hadn't gotten through.

The Zabrak frowned and turned over, his mind going back to the dream he had just been having. The Dark Jedi's face was no clearer than it had been ten minutes ago.

_New Empire...? _he wondered.

* * *

"What could have happened to him?" Nova wondered aloud, looking skyward. "Erril, I mean."

"I don't know," Sutler said, and something in his tone made the Jedi look back to him. The lieutenant was sitting with his arms and legs crossed, looking off to one side. "I'm sure he'll be back when he remembers his obligations these days."

She turned to him fully, part of her wondering if her concern over Kaven-another man-was what was bothering him. "You really don't like him, do you...?"

"I don't trust him."

"I know you don't. I feel the mistrust between you. But you don't like him, either. What is it about him that bothers you so?"

Sutler bit his lip. "I'm not entirely sure. He's flippant, arrogant...but charismatic. Charming. Please, don't think that I'm jealous. I-I think I could be charming, too. But there's something about him that doesn't seem right." His arms tightened. "I think I'm patient. I think I have a good temper. But when we first met here, and when we met on Nar Shaddaa, I almost lost it." He cocked his head to one side. "That's not happening now. Maybe...he was using the Force on me before."

"It's possible. But is that it...?"

"He singled me out as having been with the Empire. It's true, some habits haven't gone away. But _he _still seems imperial. I know he's a Jedi now, so he can't be, but..." He gave her a rueful smile, touching his shoulder. "I guess my own defection left its mark on me."

"He was still an imperial officer," agreed Nova, who was unaware of the scars on Sutler's back. She came to him, and sat down beside him. "Lieutenant..."

He turned to her. "Aerin," he said softly. "Please. Call me Aerin."

She nodded. "Aerin. Call me Nova."

"Yes."

"You left the Empire after Alderaan. Why did you?"

Sutler blinked as she took his hands. "I couldn't keep working for the Empire after something like that." Understanding came into his eyes then. "Oh, I see..."

They were both leaning forward now, gradually drawn together. Their foreheads touched. "Right," said Nova. For the second time they kissed, and then sat quietly for a while with their hands joined and their heads together.

After a while Sutler whispered, "All right. I'll give him a chance."

* * *

In his room at the base on Canaida, Kaven came out of his reverie at a knock. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed as the door slid open. An officer in a black uniform came in. He was tall and lanky, with carroty red hair and a fine spray of freckles across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks, and he grinned as he gave Kaven a once-over, hands on his hips.

"So, you're the one Captain Rathbone's been hiding away from us-Erril Kaven, right?" He extended a hand. "I'm Lieutenant Ramsey. Of the Lucky Sevens."

"'Lucky Sevens?'" Bemused, Kaven shook his hand.

"The 777th Legion. So, you're our first knight?"

"Yeah. Am I causing that much of a stir?"

Ramsey sat down in a chair across from him, taking his cap off. His nose was pointed, his features boyish, and he looked in his early twenties to the pilot, though his animation could have made him seem younger than he was. "You're our first Force-user. You know what this means? We're going to get our own order of imperial knights, and that really means that an emperor is on the way. Eventually, anyway. Knowing Captain Rathbone, he'll want things tight and secure before he seriously goes hunting for somebody to fit the bill."

They really _were _planning on ruling the galaxy. The seriousness of the New Empire's goals descended on Kaven then, and he raised an eyebrow. "An emperor?"

The lieutenant nodded. "Yeah-or an empress. Depends on who the captain thinks is best. He's kind of an emperor himself, if you ask me, but he wants to get a Force-sensitive on the throne instead, somebody that would be the opposite of Emperor Palpatine. No more Sith Empire."

"Just how much do you people know about the Force?"

"Ah, well-" Ramsey shifted embarrassedly, in the way that a novice does when confronted by a professional, "There's the Jedi, and what they do. And then there's Sith. Nasty pieces of work, them. And Dark Jedi, which aren't Jedi at all, which makes you wonder why they're called that. We got briefings about the differences between them and their philosophies." He shrugged. "I had a bit of a stone in my stomach the day I found out about Sith and how I'd served one. I probably wasn't alone."

"No," said Kaven. "You weren't."

Ramsey nodded again, and then his face lit. "Things are moving faster now. We're starting to expand. And now we're starting to find imperial knights? Maybe we _can _do this, after all."

The redheaded officer's vigour was catching, and Kaven found himself feeling optimistic about the future as well. He smiled. "Changing times," he said.

"Right!" Ramsey stood up, replacing his cap on his head. He grinned again, and in the Force Kaven felt a touch of his eagerness. He was nearly boiling over with it. He made a gesture that was not unlike a little fist-pump. "Ah! Very exciting times!"

He went to the door, and then turned again and gave Kaven a salute. "I'm still on duty," he added. "So, good night, Captain-uh, Mast-no, _Sir _Kaven."

"Uh! Just call me Erril, all right?" Kaven rose. "Or sir. Or master. _Anything _but Sir Kaven."

"Yessir."

Ramsey left. The young knight settled back down, but had not gotten far into his meditations before another knock at the door sounded. He felt in the Force that it was neither Captain Demarco nor Captain Rathbone, and his eyebrows were raised when he answered the door.

There was a pair of Stormtroopers standing in the corridor outside. They stood at attention when they caught sight of Kaven, but the pilot could see the tell-tale signs: the men were off duty.

The taller of the two waved a hand. "Evening, sir. You must be-"

"Erril Kaven; yes, I know," Kaven replied tiredly, aware that he was going to be hearing a lot more of this now that Captain Rathbone had evidently allowed his men some free contact with him. Before the Stormtrooper could address him as anything, he hastened to add: "No fancy titles."

"Yessir." The trooper reached up and took his helmet off, revealing a young man with blonde hair and wide dark eyes. "I'm Clatter, and this is the Kid." He nodded to his partner, who seemed a bit small for a Stormtrooper. The Kid saluted, but didn't take his helmet off. "So...you're a Jedi Knight?"

"Yes."

"And the first for the Empire!" Kid piped up. "Man, this is exciting!"

Kaven looked at him and thought: _How the hell did YOU get into the Stormtrooper Corps? You sound fourteen, Kid. _Well, the nickname had to come from somewhere, he reasoned. "I just had a visitor that said the same thing," he replied.

"You're going to have a lot of curious people breathing down your neck, sir," Clatter told him, "being a Jedi and all. Most of us haven't ever seen one, even if we got mandatory briefings."

Ramsey had alluded to that as well. Neo-imperial personnel had been briefed about what Jedi and other Force-users were about, and the lessons had probably included how to deal with them, whether hostile or not. "I don't suppose my running about with the Captains has anything to do with it?"

"We don't see the Captains much. They must think that you're..." Clatter paused.

"-real special, if you get to hang out with them," Kid finished. His partner shot him a disapproving look, obviously having been searching for a more diplomatic way of saying it. Kid shrugged.

"I guess so," Kaven said, unruffled. Captains Rathbone and Demarco seemed almost inhumanly busy. For Demarco to be assigned as his partner spoke volumes; although he knew that having a partner on his missions was only practical, on some deep and shadowed level he understood that there were other reasons that it was specifically _Demarco_, aside from the obvious link he had to Captain Rathbone.

"Are you going to start training other knights?" Clatter asked.

"Um, eventually, I suppose."

"Are the knights going to be bodyguards for the emperor, or commanding troops like in the Clone Wars?"

_Emperor, emperor, _Kaven thought. _You're getting ahead of yourselves. All you have is one knight, one Legion, and a naval fleet or two...you're not a real empire _yet_..._

"Both," he said, sounding confident and hoping that he did have leave to speak like this. "Two for the emperor's personal use, perhaps, and the others will command troops."

That seemed to satisfy the two, who took their leave of him and started back down the corridor, whispering between themselves. Kaven shut the door and went back to the bed, sinking down onto it with his hands on his knees. Now that he had been awakened to it, he could almost taste the hope of this faction. There was determination here, and hope, and a dire sensation-a combination that almost spoke of a last stand.

He considered the latter. The Reborn faction was splintering-they had just recently received news of Galak Fyyar's death and the destruction of his flagship, the _Doomgiver_-but still a threat, and there were still many, many supporters of Palpatine. If they were discovered it would _become _a last stand, and if they lost, the leaders of their faction would be executed for treason.

Again the thought brought to bear a fierce protective feeling, and an image rose to mind, that of himself as bodyguard to Captain Rathbone, who could well take the throne if he pleased.

_We'll succeed, _he thought. _There's more strength here than I've ever felt before-it's in every individual. We'll succeed, we'll fight Palpatine's legacy, and we'll create our new empire from the ruin._

A sense of hope stirred him, and for a moment he felt profoundly light. He settled back on the bed with his hands behind his head, and smiled.

At that moment a knock at the door came. Laughing a little behind his hand, resigning himself to his fate of the night, Kaven went to answer it.


	14. Chapter 13: Shadow of a Doubt

**Chapter 13:**

**Shadow of a Doubt**

_Canaida Base. Located on the core world of the New Empire._

_The training hall. Three days later._

"Your reflexes are very good," said Captain Rathbone, "but you rely on your sight far too much."

Jan eyed the remote hovering in the air before him, gripping the training sabre the way Erril had shown him. He was doing better at deflecting shots this time, but it was far from perfect. He hadn't managed to block more than two in a row.

The older man took a length of cloth from the table at his elbow and crossed the room to where the knight-in-training stood, waving the remote away. He stepped around behind him.

After the captain had finished blindfolding him Jan asked, "How am I going to block anything now?"

He heard Captain Rathbone's footsteps leading away. By the sounds of it, the man had taken up his spot by the table again. "Let the Force dictate your movements," he instructed. He always sounded so strict. "The Jedi would tell you to not let your perceptions cloud your judgement."

"I can, uh, see without my eyes?" Jan oriented on where he heard-and, he found, _felt_-Captain Rathbone. "Can you do that, too? Or is it just a Jedi power?"

"I'm no Jedi; far from it. Concentrate on your lesson and not idle chit-chat." The captain snapped his fingers, and the knight-padawan? squire?-felt the remote take its cue and begin hovering around him again.

He wasn't far into his lessons on feeling the Force itself, but he felt something go, and swung the lightsaber. The shot the remote had taken hit it and bounced off, hitting the floor and fizzling out. The droid took another shot, and again Jan deflected it. The third shot he managed to deflect as well, but the fourth got him in the thigh and he jumped at the sting.

Captain Rathbone nodded-how he knew that, Jan wasn't sure-and said, "Continue this way." There was the sound of a door sliding open, and a stranger's presence came in. Jan reached up and tugged the blindfold off one eye so that he could see who it was. He caught a glimpse of a man whose back was to him, dressed in a dark uniform. He wore no cap, and his hair was straight and black. He said something to the captain, whose eyes narrowed. "I see," he said in reply. There was a tone in his voice that indicated things were no longer going so well.

The black-haired officer glanced at Jan as they went out, and the young man caught a glimpse of yellow eyes. Yellow! Not light amber, but actual gold, like a serpent's! At once Jan understood who it could be. The man was surely the leader of the faction's small, illegitimate intelligence group.

The door closed behind them, and Jan's eye moved back to the remote. It stared back at him expectantly. _Let them handle it, _he thought, letting the blindfold slip back down. Bringing the training blade back into a defensive position, he concentrated on the Force and waited.

* * *

"I have a new assignment for you," Captain Rathbone said to Kaven and Demarco, once the door had slid shut behind them. The young men straightened. "One of our trusted agents is being held on Leto, and it is vital that he be rescued."

Kaven nodded. The man likely had important information, judging by the particular air of urgency the captain had. "You can count on us, Captain. Who are we looking for?"

"A man by the name of Ahwil Kees. The base is controlled by supporters of the late emperor-you may find it difficult to gain access."

"Do we have codes?" the pilot asked. Their leader nodded to the man standing by the door, a young, black-uniformed officer with yellow eyes. The man drew something from his pocket and handed it to Kaven. A code cylinder.

"Every one of them," he said, with a touch of pride.

Kaven hadn't met the head of intelligence, but he knew the man's nickname was Snake-Eyes, so this had to be him. The man's yellow eyes shifted to Captain Rathbone, and he nodded and left.

"There will be no need to avoid casualties," the captain said with a chill pragmatism. "Rescue Kees, and eliminate all opposition. Make sure you're not followed."

* * *

"I guess this Kees guy is pretty important, if the captain's sending us and not a team of commandos," Kaven remarked later on, after the briefing had finished and they were preparing the _Ghost _to leave.

"He's highly trained in reconnaissance. The captain's found his work extremely valuable-he found a few of the scientists and explorers we have in our pay, and he's partially responsible for a few successes out here in the UR," Demarco replied. The Jedi followed him inside.

They took up their usual places, with the young captain in the pilot's chair and the pilot at his side. "I suggest you get some rest before we arrive," Demarco added. "I won't be accompanying you-I have my orders to stay with the ship."

_The captain can't afford to lose Demarco if something goes wrong, _Kaven thought. "I'll keep a comlink with me," he said.

"Yes, you will. Stay in full contact. I'll come to you if you need help."

"Against the good captain's orders?"

"I'll do as I see fit," Demarco said.

* * *

Hours later, the _Ghost _emerged from hyperspace. The door to the cockpit slid open and Kaven strode in. He wore the olive uniform of an army officer now, and looked perfect but for the curved lightsaber handle at his belt. He reached up and adjusted his cap with one gloved hand. "It's been a while since I was in uniform," he said.

"You look appropriate," Demarco said. Kaven winked at him as he slid the code cylinder Snake-Eyes had given him into his breast pocket. The captain turned back to the controls. "We've entered the atmosphere. ETA twenty-eight minutes."

The pilot noticed that they weren't being pursued. "How'd we get past the blockade?"

"Cloaking device. The engineers modelled the _Ghost_'s systems after Sith Infiltrators." Demarco snuck a look at Kaven out of the corner of his eye. For all his cheekiness, the Jedi looked like a model imperial officer. He was probably intending to mind-trick his way in, and he certainly wouldn't stick out among the base personnel.

"Sith Infiltrator, huh," Kaven mused. "Funny that we're using Sith stuff..."

"The captain found it useful to his purposes. He doesn't let his...distaste for the Sith keep him from using what's useful."

"How does he know so _much?_"

"Research. I'm not entirely ignorant, myself..."

Kaven watched the thick forested landscape pass by beneath them. _I wish I knew just how much Captain Rathbone knows about this sort of thing, _he thought._ Or at least if he and Demarco were bluffing sometimes. _His gaze shifted to Demarco, who wore an unperturbed expression as they searched for a suitable spot to land. He had learned to read emotions to some degree using the Force, but Captain Demarco's were as quiet and firm as his voice, and Kaven found him something of a trick to read. He was worlds easier than Captain Rathbone, though, who never gave anything of himself away.

With the soft _ah _of a man that had found something, Demarco touched down in a clearing large enough for the _Ghost, _within a couple of kilometres of a small military base. "All right," the captain said. "Make sure your comlink is...functional...and remember your briefing."

Kaven saluted. "Yes, sir. I'll stay in touch, and I'll be back with Kees as soon as I can manage it."

He lowered the gangplank, and Demarco went to the top of it and watched him go. Once he was halfway across the clearing, the captain raised the comlink to his lips. "Erril."

The Jedi stopped. "Sound check?" he asked, his own comlink in hand.

"Yes," Demarco said. "Good luck."

The Jedi disappeared into the foliage. Biting his lip gently, Demarco went into his own quarters and sat down on the bed. He had no intention of sleeping, and he knew that he could not rest here in any case, but it was somewhere to think about things.

He liked Kaven, and Kaven seemed to like him well enough; given enough time, they might become friends. But there was something about the pilot that, while not making him _nervous _exactly, unsettled him a little. Kaven had a presence that pulled him in and carried him along, like some sort of bizarre personal tractor beam. Captain Rathbone had noticed it as well; he had mentioned it to Demarco one night, as they had been going over some reports. The older man had remarked upon it casually at the time, but Demarco knew that it was no offhand remark, no matter how it had looked. Captain Rathbone kept an eye on everything around him, and he was watching this matter very carefully. He hadn't shown any sign of it, but his second could sense some tension on his part, and Demarco understood instinctively that Kaven had changed things, that he was going to be the one deciding their course in the future.

He shifted, and his heel hit something. He didn't have to look to know what it was; a box about three feet long and a foot and a half wide, with a catch that only he had the lock for. It weighed fifteen kilos at most, but to Demarco it was the heaviest thing on the ship.

Captain Rathbone was a careful man. Should the wrong course be chosen, this would end it.

He could not see it, but the box was there all the same; it sat like a dead weight in the back of his mind every time he spoke to Kaven. He sighed and reached up, running a hand through his hair as he sat back. _Erril, _he thought. _Please be careful._

* * *

TR-589 was at his post when he heard the click of approaching footsteps. Leather boots, by the sound of it, and that meant an officer. He stood at attention.

"Trooper," the one approaching him said.

The Stormtrooper turned to face him. "Yes, sir...uh..." He didn't recognize the man, who wore a commander's insignia along with that snooty expression that officers were so good at. He had never seen this man before, though, and he had been assigned to Leto for four months already.

"Now, don't tell me you've forgotten my name," the officer said. He was young, about TR-589's age, with green eyes and good cheekbones, and the hair under his cap was dark. "I _am _your commander, after all."

The Stormtrooper stiffened. "The commander's-"

The officer waved a hand. "_I _am your commander."

TR-589 relaxed. "You are my commander." The man wasn't a fake after all, but the trooper was embarrassed to think that he had forgotten his name after all. "Commander...?"

"Zahn," the officer said, with a smile. The snooty look was gone now, and he looked more like someone TR-589 would spend his off-duty time with. "Now, trooper, there is something I require of you."

"Yes, sir?"

"Come with me to the detention. I have come to collect a prisoner."

Something spoke up in the trooper then that something was wrong; if Zahn was a real commander, he wouldn't be pulling a single Stormtrooper from his guard duties to go to the detention. He would just walk right in.

Perhaps seeing his uncomfortable shift, Commander Zahn waved his hand again. "You _will _accompany me to the detention," he said.

"I _will _accompany you to the detention."

"You will aid me at all times."

"I will aid you at all times." Never mind the discrepancies-he needed only to do as the man wished.

"Now, let's go."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Kaven convinced a second Stormtrooper to join them, and thus equipped he entered the base, the two soldiers flanking him with their blaster rifles ported. He had the confident walk of an imperial commander, and those that saw him only in their peripheral vision saw the correct figure and bearing, and with the troopers in tow he did not stand out. He was careful, however, to concentrate on the Force and not let himself be surprised by any personnel. He was not proficient enough to cast illusions over himself, which would have made things easier, but he used the Force to cloud the thoughts of those he passed, so that his face would not register in their minds.

_There's a lot of guards here, _he thought. _Well, quickly in and quickly out is best._

The trio entered the detention, and the guard on duty rose from his chair, his eyes meeting Kaven's. "What-" he began.

Kaven held up a hand to silence him. "I have been sent by Admiral Sorn to collect prisoner G-283," he said icily. "He is to come with us immediately."

"I was not informed of this," the man said, looking hard at the false commander.

_I should have gotten somebody to call in, _Kaven thought, realizing his mistake. _How stupid of me. _"Nonetheless, my orders stand," he said. He waved a hand. "You will give us the prisoner."

The guard just stared at him. "I'll need to see some identification, sir."

"_You will give us the prisoner,_" Kaven repeated, very firmly.

Now the man blinked and nodded and said, "Yes, sir. You may proceed, sir."

Kaven relaxed. Nodding to the troopers at his side, he started down the narrow corridor to where Kees' cell was located. The troopers followed. Behind them, the guard slowly sank back into his chair, his lips thin as he watched the trio walk away.

* * *

The doors to the cell slid open, and the figure lying on the cot inside sat up. He scowled at Kaven. "I already said I wouldn't tell you a blasted thing," said Ahwil Kees. He was a middle-aged man with black hair, his face darkened with stubble, and as he sat back against the wall, Kaven could see that his face was pinched with exhaustion and the aftermath of interrogation. "I told the last Sith-worshipping snotnose that wild rancors couldn't drag it out of me. Unless you've got one-"

"Captain Rathbone sent me," Kaven said, in a quiet voice. The Stormtroopers stood further down the corridor, on the lookout for trouble, and had not heard him.

Kees quieted down immediately. "You wouldn't know that name unless you were the real thing," he said, rising to his feet.

"I've come to get you out of here."

"At long last." The false officer took out a pair of handcuffs, and Kees sighed and held out his wrists. "I guess you've got to keep up appearances."

Kaven nodded. "Right. Let's go."

* * *

"They're in the detention," the guard said. "Trapped now. I didn't go after them." He listened to the angry squiggle of a reply from the comlink. "One of them is a Jedi, I would have been gutted!" Another reply came. "Yes, I'm sure! Send backup immediately!"

He switched the device off and turned to face the corridor, pulling his blaster from its holster. He had heard stories about Jedi before, how they waved their hands and hypnotized people, and some imperial rebels were rumoured to be working with Jedi now, maybe brainwashed into doing it. Kees was one of those rebels.

He brought the blaster up. He had always prided himself on his bloody-mindedness, and no Jedi brainwasher was going to hypnotize _him _into betraying the Empire.

Feeling the seconds slide by like small eternities, the guard waited for the Jedi and his cronies to come around the bend.

* * *

Just before he turned the corner, Kaven felt a warning in the Force and suddenly snapped back as a blaster bolt whizzed by. It hit the wall in a brief flash of sparks. "_Troopers!_" he exclaimed, on reflex. Immediately the Stormtroopers returned fire, using the corner as cover, and when he looked around the bend again the pilot saw that the guard lay crumpled amid the computers. He felt another twitch in the Force, and looked up from the body to see half a dozen Stormtroopers pouring into the room. He pulled his blaster from its holster and stepped back, handing it to Kees and unlocking the handcuffs. "Stay back."

He stepped around the bend, in plain view of the Stormtroopers now positioned around the booth and its computers, and there was a snap and crackle as he ignited his lightsaber.

"Concentrate your fire on the Jedi!" the Stormtrooper sergeant ordered. He was shot a second later, as one of the bolts rebounded off of Kaven's blade and struck him full in the chest.

Kaven took the second of distraction it caused the men around the sergeant to use the Force, yanking the rifle out of one trooper's hands. The soldier grabbed for it, and at his side another trooper fell.

There was an abrupt cry from one of 'his' troopers, and Kaven caught a glimpse of a hole in the breastplate of the man's armour as he fell. He levelled his lightsaber, deflecting another shot. It hit a trooper on the opposite side. Now there were only two enemy Stormtroopers left, for the second of Kaven's own had managed to hit the one who had shot his partner. A blaster bolt took the second trooper directly in the head a moment later, and he fell back limply against the wall behind him.

Using the Force, the Jedi gripped both of the remaining Stormtroopers and cracked them together, knocking them senseless. Ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind that told him he could do much better than that, he grabbed the first of his troopers, who had taken a shot in the chest and was still alive, and dragged him by the wrist to where he would be easily seen by the medics when they arrived. Kees followed, with a low whistle.

"Phew!" he said, apparently having taken a boost of morale at the knowledge of what Kaven was. "So, Rathbone's started collecting imperial Jedi, has he?"

The pilot let go of the trooper and held his lightsaber in a guarding position before him as he stepped out into the corridor, feeling his way through the Force. "Yeah. I'm the first."

Kees looked over his shoulder as a tinny voice came from the guard station's intercom, ordering him to reply. "We're about to have more company," he said.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then alarms began to sound across the base. The two men cursed and started off at a run down the corridor, with Kaven leading. They ran into a squad of Stormtroopers, but before any shots could be fired the Jedi raised a hand and let them have it, the way he had aboard the _Imperial Dawn. _Again there was a brief feeling that he could do it harder, and again he ignored it. Ever since he had stepped into the Force nexus at Ruusan, his more forceful demonstrations of power had yielded such feelings.

They streaked through the corridors, Kaven's lightsaber flashing gold as he deflected shots, and after they had gotten past another group of troopers using the same method as before, Kaven drew the comlink from his breast pocket. "Demarco!"

"_Where do you want me?_" Demarco replied over the channel, sounding calm as always.

"Get to the airfield, on the double-and be careful, the whole base is on alert now!"

"_Roger that. You're never subtle, are you?_" Before Kaven could reply, the captain switched off.

Kees was breathing hard, out of shape from his imprisonment. "Hope you know what you're doing."

"This way." Kaven's mission briefing had involved memorizing the layout of the imperial base, and now they headed in the direction of the garage connected to the airfield. Feeling a twitch in the Force, the pilot stepped in front of his companion, levelling his lightsaber to deflect a shot from a black-uniformed officer.

"Stop right there!" the officer barked. "You're under-_hwoooof!_" He doubled over as a mouse droid hit him in the stomach, propelled by a telekinetic thrust from the Jedi. He was thrust aside as well a second later, feeling as though the air itself had gripped him and slammed him into the wall. His blaster discharged on impact, hitting a bank of lights on the opposite wall. A rain of sparks fell with a crackle.

The Jedi and the prisoner ran past the fallen officer. Kaven slowed a little, momentarily, to deflect a shot from a Stormtrooper in pursuit, not even looking as he swung his lightsaber behind his back. There was a soft _urk _as the trooper collapsed.

With a wave of his hand, Kaven pried the door to the garage open, and he and Kees slipped inside.

"I can see why the captain sent _you,_" Kees said, as the pilot slashed the door controls. There was a cool breeze in the room from the huge open doorway to the airfield, which fanned the smell of oil around. The wind had come from the _Ghost_'s landing, as it was currently touching down without spectacular grace on the landing pad. From outside Kaven could hear blaster fire.

"Run for it," the Jedi told him, turning his head at a muffled shouting from the corridor. Then he turned fully as the opposite door to the garage opened, seeing the group of Stormtroopers coming in. "Oh, hell. Go!" His lightsaber left a gold ribbon in the air as it twirled about, deflecting shots from the men, and then he turned and ran after the prisoner.

They were nearly out of the garage when a blaster bolt hit Kees directly between the shoulder-blades and he went down. Kaven felt his presence in the Force dwindle and turned back, a look of horror on his face.

Kees pushed himself up a little, his mouth forming the beginning of a word, and then simply collapsed. His presence in the Force winked out.

"No..." Kaven looked down at the body, an icy feeling flooding his world. He was aware of the troopers surrounding him now, their blaster rifles pointed at him, and knew that he did not have a chance of deflecting their shots now.

More troopers were coming. He had to be surrounded by at least a dozen by now, and they had formed a ring around him.

"No," Kaven said again. His lightsaber blade retracted. "Oh..._no._"

"Drop your weapon," a sergeant growled. His tone brooked no argument. He nodded to a trooper at his elbow. "Take it."

The Stormtrooper stepped forward and took the lightsaber from Kaven's unresisting hand. _I failed, _the pilot thought. _I failed the captain._

Something deep down shifted, and he thought darkly: _No._

"Friend of his, I guess," the sergeant said, mistaking Kaven's tight-lipped look for something else. "Well, looks like we got ourselves a Jedi. Take _him _to detention."

_Not ever, _Kaven thought ferociously, and when a pair of troopers came closer to handcuff him a bubble of fury rose so fast that he did not have time to stop himself before he let it all out, flinging his arms outward and releasing everything he had in one destructive pulse, giving in at last to the desire to loose all of the power that Ruusan had given him.

For a second the garage was filled with the mingled crunch of metal and armour, and then a series of solid thuds sounded as the troopers that had suddenly been thrown into the air landed, hitting the floor like a bunch of rag dolls.

For a few moments afterward Kaven stood in the circle of destruction, panting. He almost wanted to do it again, harder this time, and almost felt as though he could, but instead he straightened and walked with outward calm among the bodies. When he saw his lightsaber, he held out a hand and it came shooting into his grip.

Attaching it to his belt, he turned and walked back to the _Ghost._

* * *

"Where is Kees?" Demarco asked with alarm, when Kaven boarded.

"Dead." The Jedi collapsed on a bench, burying his face in his hands. When Demarco did not move, he let his hands fall. "I said he's _dead!_" he snapped.

The young captain's mouth closed, and he nodded curtly and went back into the cockpit. Beneath Kaven's feet came a vibration as the engines fired into action.

There was some commotion outside the ship, and then everything became quiet again. After a long while, an hour perhaps, the door to the cockpit slid open, and Demarco returned.

He sat down across from him. "Tell me what happened."

"You already know the outcome."

Demarco took a breath. When he spoke, his voice was very quiet. "Erril. Regardless of my title, I am the second-highest-ranking officer in the New Empire, and when I order you to report on a mission, _you will report._"

Kaven looked up hurriedly at his uncharacteristically stern and surprisingly chill tone.

Demarco's lips were pressed thinly together. "Now...tell me what happened."

Feeling ashamed of himself, the pilot told him everything, starting with how he had convinced the two troopers to join him, and ending with the Force-related explosion in the garage.

Once he was finished, the captain got up and went to the door. He paused in the doorway. "We will return to Canaida directly," he said, and went inside without further comment.

Left to himself, Kaven sat in abject silence.

* * *

It was several hours later that the door to the cockpit slid open. Demarco felt Kaven's presence strongly, moving with some hesitation into the room. He heard the rustle of robes; the man had changed back into his Jedi attire.

There was a pregnant silence. Demarco did not turn, but kept his gaze on the controls before him.

Kaven hesitated again, and then said, "I'm sorry." He felt the pilot reach out, and saw his hand out of the corner of his eye, hovering over his shoulder as if he meant to put his hand on it, but then the hand drew back, without touching him, and the Jedi added, "Failing the mission got to me-I acted like a git."

At that Demarco turned, looking up at his partner. There was a look of honest contrition on Kaven's face that softened the captain's mood a bit. "Gits," he said, "I can forgive. I've met worse."

The knight's expression eased a little, and he sat down in the co-pilot's chair. Demarco saw that he was moving with some care and caution, treading carefully like a man who had just received the first sign of forgiveness after an almighty row with his girlfriend. The comparison struck him as comical, and the captain smirked. He hid it for Kaven's sake, and it was gone when the pilot glanced back at him.

"I don't know what I'm going to say to Captain Rathbone," he said.

Demarco paused. Captain Rathbone would doubtlessly be angry, as this had been a relatively important mission, but Kaven seemed to fear the captain's disappointment more than was normal. There was something between the two of them that Demarco did not understand.

"You'll have some time to think about it," he said at last.

* * *

After the dust of the conflict had settled, Commander Stavan was beside himself with fury. For the second time a Jedi had entered _his _base and killed _his _men-and although there was some cold comfort to be had in the fact that the Jedi had evidently failed his mission, Kees' death meant that they would get no information regarding this 'New Empire' business. And after what had happened on Kejim, Stavan could find himself removed from command of _this _assignment as well. His career was really on the rocks now.

From where he stood before the monitor the commander could hear indistinctly the rambling of the protocol droid, but he was paying it little mind. It was getting harder and harder to ignore, though.

"Be quiet," he said.

"I could sing a refreshing tune, if you'd like," said the droid.

"Refreshing tune?" Stavan straightened, coming back to himself now. The enormity of the day really fell on him then, and he whirled to face the 3P0. "Fourteen dead, eight wounded, a Jedi, and my career at stake, and you want to sing me a _refreshing tune?_"

He backhanded the protocol droid then, hard enough to pop its head out of joint. The droid let out a surprised "_Oh!_" on impact. "Oh, my-" Its head was upside-down now, dangling by its wires, and it turned around in order to see him. "Shall I come back later, then?" It saw the look on Stavan's face and immediately shuffled for the door, bumping into the jamb once before disappearing into the corridor.

With a huff the human turned back to the monitor. _There must be a way to destroy these blasted Jedi, _he thought, rubbing his smarting hand. _And these 'New Empire' traitors as well._

* * *

Captain Rathbone was waiting for them in the small hangar when they returned to Canaida. Kaven exchanged an apprehensive look with Demarco, and then lowered the ramp.

The captain's look had been one of expectance, but his expression grew distanced as the two young men disembarked, without Kees in tow. Kaven felt a subtle darkening in the Force. "Where," asked the older man, "is Ahwil Kees?"

Kaven swallowed. Before he could answer the captain said, "He's dead, then."

"Y, yes, sir. He is."

A moment of silence passed, and then Captain Rathbone added sharply, "Have you no explanation? Report to me, Kaven."

The use of his last name rather than his first was not lost on the pilot, who balked inwardly at the captain's tone. Feeling his cheeks growing warm, he gave his full report. The imperial officer made no comment, but only listened to the account with thin lips. Captain Demarco stood by with his hands laced behind his back, his expression carefully neutral.

"Shot on the way out," the older man echoed, with a hint of bitterness. He straightened, seeming now very tall and very cold, and then turned his back on them. "Very well. You are _dismissed,_" he said, going to the door. "Perhaps next time you'll learn from your mistakes."

After the door had closed behind Captain Rathbone, Kaven stood for a long while trying to decide whether it would have been better if the man had simply slapped him. With a sinking feeling he decided that it was so.

"Erril," Demarco said softly. Kaven turned to him. The young officer paused a moment, and then said, "We'll succeed next time," nodded, patted his shoulder awkwardly, and left.

* * *

It was late that night, and Major Kaine had only just gotten off duty when he caught a glimpse of a figure in loose dark robes walking down the next hall.

_Rathbone's pet Jedi, _he thought, stroking his mouth thoughtfully. _Well, well._

Given the direction that Kaven had been walking, the officer knew where he was going. They were on the fourth floor of the base, and there was a corridor that led to a little chamber with an oriel window that overlooked the snowy landscape. It would be deserted at this hour.

_Good._

* * *

Kaven had been leaning against the wall with his arms folded around himself, deep in thought when a voice at his elbow said, "Mind if I join you?"

He looked over his shoulder hastily, and saw that it was Major Kaine. "Go ahead," he said, looking away again. He would have preferred Demarco, and a part of him had hoped for Captain Rathbone himself, but he wouldn't shunt the major out without good reason.

There was a small _chk _as the officer set something down. "You know, your coming has prompted quite a bit of excitement," he commented. There was the sound of a cap being unscrewed.

"I guess."

"The good captain seems to have quite a bit of faith in you."

It was a perfectly innocent comment, but it chafed. "Yeah, well, it doesn't exactly seem like that at the moment," Kaven shot back. There was a questioning silence from behind him, and in his mind's eye he could see Kaine raise an eyebrow.

"I was under the impression that you had become quite his agent," the major said, sounding a bit surprised. There was a gurgle of liquid; Kaine was pouring something into a cup.

"He hasn't exactly taken me into his arms, you know," Kaven replied. The liquid stopped abruptly, and the knight looked over his shoulder. He saw Kaine's expression. "_Figuratively speaking,_" he added, with great emphasis.

The major nodded. "Of course, of course. I didn't think-haha, well. Of course not. Would you care for a drink?"

Kaven eyed him for a moment, then looked at the dark liquid in the metal cup. "What is it?"

"Mobian brandy. Good for a cold winter's night." Kaine held out the cup, expectantly.

"All right...thank you." The Jedi took a drink, and his eyes opened wide at the burning sensation in his throat. "Oh-it's strong!"

The major smiled a secret little smile. "Perhaps I should have warned you." Kaven took another sip of the brandy, but did not reply. Kaine had not done anything to warrant it, but some part of the Jedi was warning him against this man. Maybe it was just his overactive imagination, Kaven thought, looking down into the dark liquid.

"Appropriate," Kaine said, nodding toward the frozen landscape outside. "You know, those from Mobius have a saying-winter is coming. A rather odd little adage. Our own Major Stark tends to use it."

"Winter is coming," Kaven murmured. He thought of Captain Rathbone's coldness earlier that day and tensed, though he knew that he had as of yet felt only the barest touch of frost from the man.

"So-you are at odds with Captain Rathbone?" Kaine asked. The Jedi didn't answer. "Would it be far from the truth if I were to suppose...that you had failed your latest mission?"

"You know a lot."

"And perhaps he was sharp with you?"

"Maybe too much," Kaven continued. At the warning in his tone Kaine nodded and subsided, and for a while he merely sipped at his brandy thoughtfully. The base was quiet now, and in this part of it there weren't even the sound of voices in distant halls.

"Well, don't take it too hard," the major said after a while, topping up his drink. "The captain is difficult to get on with at times. I'm sure he'll warm to you after you've proven your, ah, usefulness."

Kaven finished off his own brandy at a swig and handed the cup back to the officer as he brushed past him. "Yeah. Good night, Major."

The door closed behind the knight, leaving the officer alone in the little room. Kaine stepped up to the window and sat on the window seat, throwing an arm across the windowsill. Pale moonlight shone through the glass.

Kaven was beginning to see what life in the New Empire was like, Kaine mused. Soon he would see that he was really nothing more to Rathbone than a chess piece, to be moved about at the captain's leisure. They _all _were.

* * *

There was a moment between sleep and wakefulness in which Captain Rathbone was not entirely certain of where he was, but that moment fled along with the dream he had been having, and he awoke fully. He was lying on the narrow couch that stood by the window of his office, his long legs dangling over the end of it.

He sat up as the door to the office slid open, blinking in the glow of the sunrise. "Do you not bother to knock these days, then?" he asked Demarco, swiftly righting himself.

"I did," Demarco countered. "Twice."

The older man took in the sight of the sky and surmised that it must be about six-thirty in the morning. That was acceptable; he had only fallen asleep for an hour and a half, give or take some minutes. He rose, straightening his uniform, though it hardly needed it, and went to his desk. He pressed the call button. "Prepare my shuttle for immediate departure," he said. "I shall be leaving within the hour."

"You hadn't informed me that we would be going anywhere today," his second said.

"Not we. I." Captain Rathbone put on his cap. "I am going alone this time."

Dawning suspicion crept into Demarco's expression. "You're not going to Reliquus again, are you?"

"I am. And I wish to speak to Lady Delphian myself."

"Don't you believe what she told you?"

"Do _you _believe?"

His second's mouth was a flat line. Captain Rathbone had not heard what it was that Demarco had been told during their first visit to Reliquus, for the young captain had not spoken of it directly. He was a sceptic, though, and had perhaps paid it no mind.

"Captain?"

"I have my suspicions," Demarco conceded. "But..."

"I admit that this is somewhat last minute, but I shall need you here to direct our affairs in my stead until I return."

"And what about Erril?"

"Erril," said Captain Rathbone, "is precisely _why _I am going to Reliquus."

"For a failed mission?" Demarco's impatience was evident in his tone. "Were you expecting miracles? That he'd be the first of our knights and then suddenly we're an empire again?"

"I do not expect miracles." The older man's voice was soft, but there was steel beneath his words. "I do not wait for them, and I certainly do not invest myself in them. You understand me, Captain, and you understand that this is a matter of great importance to me. I wish to discuss it with Lady Delphian."

Demarco leaned on the desk. "I don't see how you can take this hoodoo even half-seriously."

The captain studied his second. He suspected that Demarco had become torn between his beliefs, and that alone was a reason to go see the sibyl. The young captain was a canary in the mines, and if even a _part _of him had begun to feel that Kaven was the one that they had been looking for, it was a matter worth double-checking. Captain Rathbone was not a man that lived on the hope he felt, and he did not hold with uncertainty. Belief without fact, unwarranted feelings, did not belong in his world. He had to make sure of things.

"Run the base in my absence," he said, moving past his assistant. He paused in the doorway. "If Erril should concern himself with me, inform him that he remains my valued agent."

Demarco sighed. "Perhaps you should tell him that yourself."

* * *

Their lightsabers came together with a flash and crackle, and Kaven took a few steps back as he blocked each of Jan's attacks. After the sixth slash they paused, the training blades sizzling against each other.

"Again," said Kaven, and they went through the routine for the third time. They had been doing this since mid-morning, and it was now approaching noon. Only a few days ago Jan had begun to learn the moves of Shii-Cho, and he was just beginning to grow comfortable with a lightsaber in his hand. He hadn't trained with the sabre droid yet. "All right, that's enough."

"Was that better?" his younger brother asked, extinguishing his blade.

"Yeah. You're a little slow, but you've got the beginners' moves down." Extinguishing his own weapon, Kaven turned and went to the table near the wall, on which a couple of water-bottles stood. He reached for one, but before his fingers could close around it, it slid across the surface of the table and went wafting unsteadily away. The pilot watched its progress thoughtfully, glancing up at his brother.

Jan was staring at the bottle with a look of such intensity that it was a wonder it hadn't burst into flames, and the tip of his tongue was just visible at the corner of his mouth. The bottle wobbled, but the padawan managed to catch it just before it fell.

"-and I see you've got some other moves down as well," Kaven finished.

"I still can't believe I can do things like this," Jan muttered. He glanced at his older brother. "So, I'm slow?"

"You're slow."

"Am not."

"Are so."

Jan pointed to the sabre droid. "Show me fast."

"Fine." Kaven put away the training blade, preferring to spar with his own lightsaber in hand. He went to where the droid's control panel was located and switched it on, setting it to the appropriate challenge level. The sabre droid immediately straightened, its visual receptors lighting up, and it drew the training sabre from its wrist holder as it stepped into the centre of the room. There was a snap and crackle, and a metre of green plasma hissed out.

Jan stepped back and took a seat, and Kaven's lightsaber ignited. He stood in the customary opening guard of Makashi, and the droid mimicked him. There was a long moment of silence, and then they came together.

The lightsabers collided in flashes, moving almost faster than Jan could follow, and he marvelled at the fencer's grace of the second style. His older brother moved with such speed and elegance that it seemed he was nearly dancing, and he turned aside each of the droid's strokes with apparent ease. Erril's expression was focused, and he gave no indication that he noticed when the door to the training hall opened.

Jan's eyes moved from the sparring match, and he saw that it was Captain Demarco. The young captain had frozen in the doorway and was now watching the fight with rapt attention. Jan traced the motions of his eyes and saw that the officer was hardly watching the sabre droid at all; nearly all of the attention was focused on his older brother.

Demarco's lips moved a little, and although Jan could not read lips very well, it looked sort of like the captain was mouthing the word _amazing._

At last Erril finished the fight with a thrust that disarmed the droid, and as it shuffled back to its resting spot he turned, panting, to Demarco. "Did you need me for something?" he asked, running a hand through his sweaty hair to dislodge it from his brow. His skin gleamed.

Demarco blinked in a strangely deliberate way, then shook his head. "Not especially. I was on my way by."

"Where has Captain Rathbone gone?" Erril asked. "I don't feel him around."

"He's...gone on a short trip."

"Oh." Erril and Demarco exchanged a look that Jan couldn't read. There was something bothering him that his older brother wasn't talking about, and only the captain seemed to know what that something was. Jan could only guess that it had something to do with their commander. His mild confusion deepened as Erril stepped closer to Demarco and murmured, "That man...on Leto. Who was he really?"

There was a brief pause before Demarco replied, "A friend of the captain's."

* * *

The imperial shuttle sped over the great lake, heading toward the monastic building on the hillside. It was a large, sprawling compound that looked as though it had been transplanted from Naboo and taken to the Unknown Regions, with its white stone columns and crawling vines. There were people visible now, moving toward the landing pad. Although the visit had not been announced, it had been expected.

The craft folded its wings and touched down. Instructing the pilots to remain with the ship, Captain Rathbone walked down the entry ramp. It was still early summer, but it seemed quite warm enough to the officer, who had spent most of his recent hours on Canaida.

There were eight young women waiting for him; he recognized three of them as Lady Delphian's handmaidens, but he suspected the others were simply curious. All of them were human, dressed in long white chitons, and most were hardly more than teenagers. There were more women visible amid the columns and in the shade; as the captain had noticed on his previous visit to the Reliquan monastery, there was not a single man visible.

"You're here to see the sibyl, yes?" one of the girls asked.

"Yes, I am."

One of the trio, a slim girl of about nineteen with long light hair and deep-set green eyes, came forward and held out her hands. The captain removed the holster containing his blaster from his belt and handed it to her. Holding it a little awkwardly, she said, "Come this way."

With the other two girls flanking him, Captain Rathbone followed the young woman across the courtyard and into the monastery. He was well aware of the attention that they were drawing to themselves; offworld visitors weren't that common, and as both a man and an officer he stuck out. No doubt the monks had their defences, but there was not a military presence to be seen. To them he was quite exotic.

Deep in the building they reached a set of large wooden doors, but before the girl could raise a fist to knock the doors opened of their own volition, revealing a large study. Inside was a woman in long white robes, standing by the fireplace with her back to the door. One hand was raised.

"I won't be needing any chaperones," the sibyl said, as the girls made to follow Rathbone into the room. They nodded and backed out, closing the door behind them. The captain caught some whispering from the hall.

"Since you've come back, I can only surmise that you've found your knight," said Lady Delphian, turning to face him. The sibyl was an older woman, in her early sixties perhaps, with long grey hair and a stately presence. She was not tall, but her regal bearing gave her a height that was beyond physical and quite on par with the captain's. "But, that is not all," she added, as he took her hand and kissed it.

"No," he agreed.

"The young man, then-who is he?"

"Erril Kaven. A pilot turned Jedi."

They gazed at each other, each measuring the other carefully. "You needn't hide so much, Captain," Lady Delphian said at last. "Your secrets are safe in my presence."

"I am aware of that," the man said. "Nonetheless..." He glanced meaningfully at the door.

The old woman strode to the door and opened it. The three girls that had been listening at the door jumped in surprise, and colour flooded into their cheeks. "All of you have duties to attend to," the sibyl said sternly, "and none of them involve eavesdropping. Return to your lessons."

"Y-yes, milady!" The girls fled, and Lady Delphian shut the door again.

She moved back to where the captain waited with his hands folded behind his back. His profile was to her, and his expression was patiently unreadable. He gave little of himself away, but the woman had spent her life learning to read the nuances of the Force. It was that quality that had made her a seer, though in her own eyes she was a _reader_. She took note of things and calculated odds, tracing the threads of fate to their probable conclusions.

"Do you _believe _that the young man is the one that you have been looking for?" she asked, coming to stand before him.

"I have not taken a side," the officer replied. His words rang false in her ears and perhaps his own as well, for he added, "He has not been with us for long."

"You were aware that you would know him upon your first meeting. I told your Captain Demarco something similar. Now that you've met him, is he, in fact, the one?"

There it was; a tiny bit of tension across his shoulders. "He failed at a task I set before him," the captain said.

Lady Delphian thought of the tangled threads surrounding the New Empire, made readable only by what she had learned through the Force, her own research, and her meetings with the man before her as well as the young one that had accompanied him on his last visit. Things had not gone onto an unexpected path, but she could sense his doubt; it was all that he would allow her to see of him. His analytic nature was at odds with the illogical whisperings of the Force.

Finally Captain Rathbone said, "Yes. When we met, things came together."

"You knew it was him."

"Yes."

She thought a while about that, concentrating on the Force and on the captain as well, as far as she could see. "What you wish to know now, I suppose, is whether your endeavours will be successful."

"Failure is not an option."

"It is improbable. The odds are in your favour, so long as you remain careful." She laced her fingers together, taking a breath. "Now, however, is the difficult part. You've found your knight, and your new empire will follow him-into the _dark _side of the Force, should things take one turn, and into the light should they take another."

Captain Rathbone looked uncomfortable. "I have noted that he has such an effect on others. It is highly dangerous." He glanced aside, into the fireplace. "How am I to control which path this faction takes?"

"That," said Lady Delphian, "is something you must find out-by trial and error if necessary. The odds of each path are balanced."

The captain's eyes shut and his lips formed an exclamation that he did not voice.

"You are walking a thin line."

"Indeed." The man straightened, stoicism replacing the brief look of dismay he had worn. "However, it is as you have said-as long as I am careful, the odds may be in my favour. In any case, I had suspected such a state of affairs, given Erril's particular...magnetism."

There was no end to his determination, the seer mused. He was attempting to accomplish the improbable, tempering the daunting odds with care and planning. A curious man. She would have liked to read him further, but it seemed that would have to wait for another time. He wished to return to his faction.

"I suspect you could be trained as a reader yourself, Captain Rathbone," she said quietly. He turned to her fully. His expression was one of polite interest, but she knew that she had his full attention. "Even those who cannot use the Force can be trained." A little smile touched her lips. "Although I'm sure you would find it difficult to obtain training, given our traditions."

He cocked an eyebrow at that, and a little smile of his own appeared. A knowing look passed between them, and she confirmed what she had suspected, this time and the last; he had been observing her as closely as she had observed him.

With a twitch of the Force, she opened the doors of the study. "Do come again, Captain," she told him. "Perhaps on a personal visit next time."

"Perhaps I shall. Good day to you, Lady Delphian."

After he had left the seer stood with her arms folded, toying with a lock of silvery hair as she thought. So far all of her hypotheses had come out more or less the way she had calculated them, and over the captain's last visit she had given him the most likely outcomes given the way the New Empire operated, which had seemed to satisfy him. There was, however, one major factor that she had elected to remain reticent about, recognizing it as a wild element that ought to run its natural course. Captain Rathbone had been accurate in his assessment of his candidate's abilities, but he had overestimated the young man's role; when the time to diverge came, it would not be Erril Kaven who decided their path, but the captain himself. Whether the New Empire would become a force to combat the evils of the old Empire or whether it would simply become a new _kind _of evil was something yet to be seen.

_Fifty years of training, _she thought, _and I cannot fully assess this one's future. Now, what are the odds of that?_

* * *

As the snowfields of Canaida passed by beneath them, Captain Rathbone sat alone in the passengers' section with his legs crossed and his long fingers steepled before him. His eyes were closed, and he appeared in a meditative state.

The sibyl had not told him anything new, but she had confirmed his suspicions and that would suffice. They had been stable until now-as stable as such an illicit organization could be-but he knew that the time would soon come to reveal themselves. It would be a time of high risk, wherein they could gain a great deal of power or be wiped out completely-double or nothing, a gambler would say. And it was all up to an inexperienced Jedi to decide whether they would become a beacon of light in the corrupted Empire or whether they would overshadow its evils with their own.

If the captain had been a man prone to fidgeting, he would have shifted uncomfortably at the thought; instead, the only sign of his discontent was a slight tightening of the lips. Kaven had begun to grow on him, it was true, but the young man simply was not experienced enough to handle the things his captain wanted of him. He liked Kaven, but had not made up his mind over how he ought to handle him, and the truth of the matter was that he would have trusted Demarco more in Kaven's situation. Why were things coming together this way? It was so...unstable.

Captain Rathbone pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. He was overthinking things, surely, and attaching more gravity to them than was called for. Quite possibly it was fatigue; the hours of sleep he had gotten over the last three days could be counted on the fingers of one hand. Taking some time to himself was perhaps in order, but it would mean handing the workload to Demarco, and he had exhausted his second enough.

From the cockpit, the pilot announced the time of arrival. Ten minutes. The captain folded his hands in his lap, now feeling very tired. It would not be fair to Demarco to take very much sleep, but perhaps..._perhaps_...he could take a little, just this once...

At that he straightened. _No, _he told himself. If he was unfair once, he would be unfair twice, and it would only grow easier from there. He would take sleep when he found the time to do it. Until then, there was simply too much to do.

* * *

He met Demarco shortly after he had arrived at the base. "Has anything noteworthy happened?" he inquired.

The young captain shook his head. "No, sir. Everything has gone smoothly." He handed his commander a datapad. "Today's reports." He regarded Captain Rathbone for a moment, and then added, "Erril and his brother are in the training hall, studying the holocrons-they wanted to know if you've finished...cataloguing...Sora Ky's."

They exchanged a look. Demarco was as neat and poised as he ever was, but it had obviously been a long day. The mention of the knights was not entirely inconsequential, and something unspoken hovered in the air between them. "I will see to them when I've finished," the older man replied. "I expect to be done within the next few days."

Demarco gave him a long, considering look, then nodded. "Yes, Captain."

* * *

Kaven had been meditating in a room adjoining the training hall, sitting cross-legged before a row of windows overlooking the snowfields of Canaida. His eyes opened when a presence moved into the room, its footfalls silent.

"Captain," he said.

"Erril," came the reply.

In the silence that followed the knight turned, readjusting so that he now sat facing the older man. Captain Rathbone's expression was unreadable, and he stood at attention with one hand behind his back and the other before him, holding something. It was the holocron that Kaven had retrieved from the Jedi Temple, the one belonging to Sora Ky.

The captain came further into the room. After he had gotten back from whatever mysterious errand had drawn him away several days before, Kaven had seen little of him. Between his own exercises and tutoring Jan, the pilot had enough to occupy his time as well.

"I've finished cataloguing it," Captain Rathbone said, holding out the holocron.

Kaven took it. "You have thorough records on the ones we have, I take it?" He closed his hands over it, feeling the warmth from the captain's fingers still on it. He was a little awkward, and wished that the man would just show his irritation if he still felt it. He didn't like guessing games like this.

"Yes...quite thorough." The captain walked past him and stood before the large windows, lacing his hands behind his back. His lips pursed a little in thought, and then he said, "It looks rather pleasant out." He suddenly turned to Kaven, who straightened. "I think I shall go for a walk. Why don't you join me?"

The pilot cocked his head. "Y...yeah-yes. I'll come."

"Capital." The captain walked past him again, waving a hand. "Meet me outside in ten minutes."

* * *

Twenty minutes later they were walking in the patchy coniferous forest beyond the base, down a well-trodden path that wound between the trees. Captain Rathbone was in front, walking through the snow with leggy grace, his gloved hands in the pockets of his coat and his scarf fluttering behind him. Kaven plodded after him, looking around at the birds and small animals in the higher branches of the trees. A squirrel-like creature ran across one branch and leapt to another, causing a brief rain of white from the first. Kaven's gaze followed the falling snow, and he caught sight of something else. He paused at the sight of a snowman which heavily resembled a Stormtrooper, and then hurried on after the captain. "Nicer place than Hoth," he remarked, once he had drawn abreast of the older man.

"Indeed."

"Was it the first of the New Empire bases? Are there more than just Canaida and Kantos out there?" Kaven pressed, not wanting to provoke an awkward-for him, anyway-silence between them.

"As of now the New Empire proper controls six systems, and we have three core planets in addition to outposts on a dozen more." Captain Rathbone smiled. "It _is _a start."

"Why are you doing this?"

They stopped, and the captain turned to him, raising one eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Why are you doing this?" Kaven repeated. "The New Empire. You, and I mean all of you, have done so much for it, and you've put so much into it, and you've got enemies on all sides. If you got caught-" the corners of his mouth drooped, "-you could get killed."

"Hmm." The captain's eyes closed, and he put his hands behind his back. "All of this is for the good of the Empire," he said after a moment's reflection. "You were not born yet when the Clone Wars hit, but they revealed a great number of...weaknesses in the structure of the Old Republic. It had become too corrupt to function the way it ought to have, and it was too unstable to remain. There were more battles fought than just the Clone Wars in that time. Civil war became all too common. The Empire put an end to all of that." He turned to Kaven. "Had it not been corrupted by the Sith, the Empire could have stood for so much good in this galaxy. It could have brought law and order. _This _is why I am doing this, Erril...I want the Empire that should have been."

"And you'll get it," Kaven said, feeling a bloom of admiration. At that moment he felt very proud to be a part of this undertaking, to work alongside the brave men and women that had joined the faction knowing well the risks they took in doing so.

"Will I...? I hope so," Captain Rathbone said softly. "I very much hope so..." He examined Kaven for a long moment, touching his lips thoughtfully, his dark eyes searching. Then the moment passed and he said, in a more normal tone, "Well, that does remind me of something that I was meaning to talk to you about."

The knight's expression changed to dismay. "Captain...if this is about the mission...I'm sorry."

A heartbeat passed.

"No...this is not about Kees," the captain said carefully, "I was referring to an upcoming mission."

Kaven's cheeks darkened a bit even beneath the cold-induced pinkness. He didn't know why he needed Captain Rathbone's approval so badly or why he felt the need to please him so, and a part of him found it vaguely embarrassing. "Ah...yes?"

"I am going to send you to the Shanast system. Imperial troops are currently engaged with the Republic there, and by all accounts they are losing. One more loss could upset the balance of the whole battle."

"Do you want me to aid them, then?"

"No. I want you to work against them."

The knight raised an eyebrow. Captain Rathbone continued, "These are Reborn faction troops, several of the remaining detachments that had flocked to the late Admiral Fyyar's banner. They've been stuck on Shanast for some time, and would surely welcome some...imperial aid."

Kaven's brow knit. "So, why would I attack them?"

"There are two Reborn there with them, having regrettably survived thus far. I had been hoping that they would not have, especially since a Jedi serves on the Republic side of the battle, and as long as the Reborn are there, there will be no negotiations between us."

"You want me to kill the Reborn."

"Yes, as well as the Jedi. I have considered the course of action for this mission, and it is this." The captain held up a hand. "Eliminate the Reborn first, as well as any imperial troops who happen to see you. _Do not allow yourself to be seen. _Then wait a few days-without the support of those Dark Jedi, the tide of battle will shift in the Republic's favour. At that time Demarco will carry out his half of the mission, and negotiate with the remaining imperials. Should they choose to join us, we will conduct a rescue mission."

Kaven realized the deviousness in the plan. The troops would join any imperials that came to rescue them if they were pushed far enough onto the losing side. If negotiations went through, the New Empire would gain thousands of new Stormtroopers as well as other personnel, in addition to being rid of two more Dark Jedi. It struck him then that Captain Rathbone had been planning this for quite some time, and that it was probably fair to say that he was a bit of a bastard as well as a mastermind. Still, he had to admire that kind of artfulness.

"After that, I'm to go to the rebel base and assassinate the Jedi as well," he said.

"Yes. Do what you must to succeed-" the captain took a breath, "-I have faith in you."

"I will _not _fail you, Captain."

"No, you won't. You won't. And, Erril-don't mention this to anyone. This is strictly between you and me."

The young man nodded. Some people would probably be upset if they found out that the captain was willing to manipulate things in such a fashion. Still, if it would advance their goals...

"Of course not, my Captain," he said.

* * *

The briefings were private, kept only between Demarco, Kaven, and Captain Rathbone. The imperial knight was to depart for Shanast first, piloting a captured New Republic vessel that he would scuttle upon arrival. This time he planned out his actions, going over them carefully and considering alternatives should one of his plans not proceed as expected. By the time of the mission, he felt prepared.

_I won't fail this time, _he thought, walking toward the ship that he was to take. It was an X-Wing Fighter; he was quite familiar with them, considering how many he had shot down in the past. There was an unfamiliar astromech droid of the R2 series plugging itself in, and it bleeped at him as he opened the canopy. He had refused to have Arfour along on the mission, and he had other plans for his little droid in any case. Even if he hadn't, he did not want Arfour destroyed.

Feeling garish in a rebel pilot's flight suit, Kaven put on the helmet and adjusted the chin strap, gazing at the hangar through a yellow tint. Even if it was only a disguise, he didn't like looking like an X-Wing pilot.

"Very...dapper," someone said from behind him.

"You could see me coming from the next system over," Kaven replied, turning to face Demarco. The officer was leaning against the hull of the _Ghost_, his arms crossed. "Still, I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

The young captain nodded. "I'll remain in touch. Be sure to notify me of your progress."

"Right. May the Force be with you, Demarco."

Demarco cocked an eyebrow. "And with you," he echoed.

* * *

The jewel of Shanast loomed large before him when he emerged from hyperspace, green and blue and white. Flashes of green and red flickered around it as imperial forces engaged those of the New Republic. The three Star Destroyers present had formed a rough line, taking advantage of their broadside cannons to hold the rebel cruisers at bay while protecting their own bows and sterns.

No doubt he had shown up on the sensors of those engaged in the battle, but for the time being they were too far away to do anything about it. He had a fine window of opportunity to slither through unmolested.

His radio crackled, and something nearly incomprehensible came through. "-essel. -are you? Iden-"

Kaven reached out and flipped a switch. "Sorry, didn't catch that," he said over the channel. "Heading planetside. Amaranthine Six out."

The last thing he heard, before the radio faded out in the rush and crackle of atmospheric heat, was, "...What?"

* * *

The area of Shanast in which he was to land was heavily treed, and he spent some time cruising before he found a suitable place. It was on a small plateau and well away from the encampments on either side. Kaven climbed out of the small ship, dropping the helmet onto the seat. He pulled his bag out and tossed it to the ground, then tucked a second, smaller bag under his arm and hopped down. He bent over the pack containing his gear and took out a pair of electrobinoculars. A breeze sifted through his dark hair as he looked around. He caught a glimpse of something above the tree line, and zoomed in. It was distant, but it was definitely the tip of an imperial installation's communications array. He squinted. It looked like a satellite dish.

Kaven lowered the binoculars. His business was with the imperial base first. Putting the field glasses back into a pocket of his backpack, he pulled out his robes and other assorted bits of clothing and set them aside before stripping off the flight suit he wore. He had no more need of the pilot's costume, and it was time to look like a Jedi again. He dressed, then tossed the orange bundle into the cockpit of the X-Wing. After a brief check to make sure he had everything that he wanted, he shouldered his bag and started away. There was a bleep from the astromech. The pilot didn't understand it; evidently being bereft of memory-wipes for over thirty years had given Arfour some linguistic drift in addition to a personality.

Once he was far enough away, the imperial knight drew a small remote control from an inner pocket of his robes, flipped it open, and entered the activation code.

The explosives wired into the X-Wing exploded, taking the ship and the droid with it.

A fiery breeze blew Kaven's robes, and the remains of the canopy landed with a crash ten metres away.

The mission had begun.

* * *

Dalen Farr came to a halt, and the Stormtroopers flanking him stopped as well. "Sir?" one of them inquired.

The Reborn held up a hand for silence, and for a long time there was nothing but the rustle of wind in the leaves and the calls of distant birds. "There's something here," the Dark Jedi said. They were twenty kilometres from the base, scouting for rebels and Shanasti. The reptilian humanoids were special nuisances, as they were chameleonic and had ambushed far too many imperial troops already. He and Karris had since been leading the hunting parties, as they had a distinct advantage. The other Reborn was back at the base now.

Farr lowered his hand, but instead of relaxing, it dropped to where his lightsaber was fixed at his belt. He had felt someone, and he could not now. He knew better than to think that whatever it was was gone. He could not feel it; it didn't mean that it wasn't there.

"We'll keep moving," he said, and the troopers followed. The Reborn looked around, not moving his head. Whatever it was...it was following them. It was not a Shanasti; they could not cloak themselves in the Force. That left...

_The Jedi! _Farr thought, his eyes narrowing. _So, you're stooping to this, now, Kord? _

Leaves rustled underfoot, and a part of the Reborn winced at the noise. Behind them, unseen and unheard, the very last Stormtrooper in the line was suddenly sucked into the thick underbrush. The second last followed a second later. This time the troopers heard a gasp, and turned with their blasters brought to bear.

"SA-341," the sergeant said. "341! Do you copy?" There was nothing but radio silence. "SA-788, are you there?" Nothing.

Farr's lightsaber was in his hand now, but he hadn't ignited it. A bead of sweat had formed at his temple. Telis Kord was a Jedi Master. They needed to get to an open space. There was too much cover for that Republic scum here in the trees.

"There!" A trooper exclaimed, at a movement of something brown in the underbrush. He fired, and there was a moist, horrible noise. An enormous brown toad flopped across the path; it had been puffing itself up to scare off the intruders, and it was half burst from being shot. "...Ergh. I guess not."

The sergeant glanced at the Reborn. "Shanasti?" he inquired. Young masters Farr and Karris tended to unsettle the men with their blank stares and their sorcerous ways, but the sergeant was made of sterner stuff and they didn't scare him one bit. He was respectful, though-he had borne witness to less respectful troopers that had met the business end of a lightsaber, and he had no intention of being one of them.

"Jedi," Farr said. "We'll move along...forward."

"Yessir." The sergeant knew what he meant. The path they were on led to a clearing, and Kord wouldn't be able to ambush them so easily there. Motioning for the men to follow, they started off again. The Stormtroopers in the rear were walking backwards now, while the others sidestepped and the sergeant faced forward, forming a little ring in which everyone had the others' backs. The Reborn walked briskly ahead, his lightsaber ready to ignite at any moment and his face drawn. For reasons of practicality, he had hoped to have Karris at his side the day they faced Kord.

A shadow passed overhead, and suddenly the two troopers at the sides rose, shooting into the trees with twin yells. Now Farr ignited his lightsaber, and three feet of red plasma emerged as he whipped around to face the group. The rear troopers turned, their blaster rifles raised high. They sighted along the barrels, but there was nothing to see.

The Reborn's arm moved back slowly. He couldn't see the Jedi Master, but he was certain that he was standing on one of the sturdy branches overhead. The troopers were dead; they had been killed the moment they had disappeared among the leaves.

A shadow moved, and Farr threw his lightsaber as hard as he could. It sped upwards like a red saw blade and clove the bough in two, as well as anything it passed. The creak and snap of wood sounded, and branches came crashing down. The spinning blade turned in a wide arc and came whipping back at the group. The sergeant ducked on impulse, and the Dark Jedi caught it neatly. Perhaps feeling slightly silly, the Stormtrooper straightened and turned to the pile of debris brought down by Farr's slicing throw. A pile of thick branches and leaves and broken wood-and the troopers that had been taken. One black-gloved hand protruded from beneath a heavy branch. Each man bore a burn-hole through the breastplate, the mark of a lightsaber. Under his helmet, the sergeant's eyes narrowed. SA-1123 and SA-502-Wes and Markowitz. Both good men.

He saw a shadow leap from behind the thick tree to the branch of another, and immediately shot at it. Moving faster than any human ought to move, the figure jerked out of the way of the shot and disappeared behind the bole of the tree. Definitely a Jedi, then. It had to be Telis Kord-though the sergeant hadn't heard of him personally attacking patrols before.

At an impatient gesture from Farr, the three remaining troopers and the Reborn continued on. They were running now, and every now and then the Stormtroopers sprayed the area with blaster fire to discourage the Jedi from picking any more of them off. Nonetheless, as they reached the clearing, the two privates were plucked from their feet and slammed against the bole of a tree.

"_All right, you Jedi scum!_" the sergeant shouted, whirling to face the trees with his E-11 in hand. "_Come out and fight like a man!_"

A bizarre feeling came over the rifle, and the trooper looked down in time to see it break in his hands. He held it up, watching in mute horror as the weapon crumpled in half like a cardboard tube. It stopped moving and his gaze moved past the black metal to the man that now stood between a pair of trees like towering monoliths.

It couldn't be Telis Kord-he was much too young, for one thing. This man was tall and brown-haired, and as he stepped into the clearing he ignited the lightsaber in his hand. It flashed out, glowing gold.

"You're not Kord!" the Reborn spat, from behind them. "Who are you!"

"No-one," the mysterious Jedi said, advancing on them.

The sergeant reached to his belt and drew his vibroknife. "Well, whoever you are-you're not walking away."

He took a step toward the man, and in the next second found himself skidding across the clearing. Scrub brushes whipped against his helmet, obscuring his vision by split seconds. After he had coasted to a stop, he rolled over to look at where the Jedi and the Reborn were circling one another. Their voices were murmurs at this distance, but the sergeant could still read their lips.

_So, Master Telis Kord sent his padawan to do his dirty work, _Farr said.

_I'm not on his side, _the Jedi told him.

_You...work for someone else?_

The stranger didn't answer, but shot forward instead, and their lightsabers collided. The sergeant had never seen two Force-users fight before, and he found that he could hardly follow it all. Their reflexes alone were amazing. Considering what lightsabers could do, the Stormtrooper was surprised that body parts weren't flying already, from the way the two of them were going at it. He got to his feet. He had managed to keep a grip on his knife even as the Jedi had thrust him aside telekinetically, and he hung back to watch the fight, the weapon clutched in one fist. If he stepped in now, he would get something chopped off.

The guy with the yellow lightsaber moved more like a dancer than anything else, and it looked as if he weren't putting much effort into the fight, twirling and turning aside Farr's attacks with a blinding agility. Their lightsabers flashed and crackled as they connected. The Reborn vaulted over the stranger's head, and upon landing he was able to drive him back a few steps, but something went wrong in the bladework and the sergeant caught a glimpse of Farr's hand flying away. His lightsaber extinguished immediately, and the Reborn's expression became one of shock a second later as a foot of yellow plasma emerged from his back. He crumpled as the Jedi drew the blade out.

When the stranger turned to him, the Stormtrooper threw the knife and sprinted for the bodies of his fallen comrades, snatching up one of their blaster rifles. He turned on the Jedi and opened fire. The gold lightsaber moved to deflect the shot with snakish speed, and the blaster bolt came right back at him. It hit him in the arm and he gritted his teeth as it burned through the plastoid armour and partway into his bicep. The Jedi advanced. He collapsed the stock so that he could hold the rifle in one hand, and switched it to his left, backing away. The Jedi levelled his lightsaber before him.

Determined to get a shot past that lightsaber, the sergeant fired again, rapidly and erratically. The Jedi's lips thinned and the gold line of the blade became a blur as he deflected each of the shots. One of the ricochets took the Stormtrooper directly in the chest and he fell back against a tree. He grasped at the rough bark with one hand, keeping himself in a sitting position. When he raised the blaster again, the Jedi was right there, and in a flash of gold sliced the rifle in two. Then he ran the soldier through.

* * *

After he had finished with the sergeant, Kaven straightened. He extinguished his lightsaber and returned it to his hip, turning to where the Dark Jedi lay on his face in the grass. He held out a hand and pulled the Reborn's lightsaber toward himself.

He slipped it into an inner pocket of his robe. If Captain Rathbone wanted solid proof of the Reborn's deaths, he would have it.

Taking a moment to centre himself in the Force, he noticed something vital, and turned to where the two troopers that he had thrown against the tree lay. One of them was still out cold, but the other was lying motionless, very much awake now and playing possum. The knight drew the blaster pistol from his hip-he never felt quite complete without it on a mission-and thumbed the safety off. It would have been better for the Stormtrooper if he had stayed unconscious; that way he never would have seen Kaven. But the pilot had his orders...leave no witnesses.

Stepping closer, he raised the weapon and shot the man. The trooper jerked, then relaxed. Raising the pistol to shoulder height, he examined the second Stormtrooper. Still unconscious.

He considered. If there was any chance at all that the man had seen him, then he should finish him off right now. Something quick. Kaven was not a cruel man.

He slowly sank to one knee before the sprawled form of the trooper, looking down at him and thinking hard, feeling his consciousness through the Force. At last he came to a conclusion.

Putting the blaster away, he got to his feet and left the clearing. Some hours later the trooper would awaken, and he would never know how close he had come.

* * *

Cloaking himself in the Force once more, Kaven made his way through the thick jungle toward the imperial base. From where he now stood in the branches of a old tree, he watched the installation through a pair of electrobinoculars. Troopers and officers moved about, while a pair of men in engineers' jumpsuits made repairs to one of the two AT-STs in the clearing.

He caught a glimpse of orange and focused on it. Yes-it _was _the other Reborn, on an upper level, gesturing to a pair of scout troopers, obviously ordering them off somewhere.

He lowered the binoculars. There weren't as many people at the base as there should have been, by the looks of things, but it would be awfully stupid of him to go after the Dark Jedi as it was. He would have to lure the man away somehow.

Peering through the field glasses again, Kaven watched as the troopers went down the flights of stairs to ground level, walking toward a line of speeder bikes parked nearby. One of them shouldered his sniper rifle, and an idea began to form in the pilot's mind. Putting the binoculars away in his bag and tucking the whole thing into a hollow in the trunk, he stepped onto an adjacent branch, then jumped to the next tree. Then, he began to make his way to where he could intercept the scouts.

* * *

SA-416 brought his bike to a halt beside a thick tree and climbed off, setting his rifle across the seat within easy reach. He switched to the heat vision mode in his helmet, scanning the silent forest around him. He caught a glimpse of something and turned. It was an animal about the length of his arm, one of the foxy-looking things he had seen a million times before. The creature scampered away, into the bushes.

The trooper turned in a slow 360, feeling as if something were there. Karris had been ranting about Telis Kord again; the Dark Jedi seemed absolutely convinced that the Jedi Master had sallied forth into the woods and ambushed Farr's group. 416's partner was currently heading along their patrol path, trying to see if anything remained of the party. Judging by the long string of epithets regarding the Reborn that were coming through the comlink, the guy was doing just fine, but neither scout liked the idea of going solo through Shanasti-infested jungle. Karris had insisted, though, which just went to show that-

He froze at the scrape of a boot on bark, looked up, and then dove for his rifle. Before his fingers touched it there came the quiet sound of someone landing softer than was natural, and then something unbelievably hot punched all the way through him like some fiery spear. For a split second he saw it emerge from his chest, glowing gold at the edges and white-hot in the centre, and then it withdrew and his knees buckled under him.

"J-Jedi," he said over the comlink, and then his world snuffed out.

* * *

With the sniper rifle slung over his shoulder Kaven returned to the higher branches, leaping and stepping back to where he had first seen the Reborn. It had only been a few minutes since the Dark Jedi had ordered the scouts out, and the man was still there. He was leaning on the balcony, looking out over the grounds with a sour expression.

Kaven settled into a good position, checking the weapon and settling it across a knobbly bit on the thick bough as though it were a mount. He was no sniper, but he felt sure that he could use the thing successfully.

The Reborn was in his crosshairs now. He steadied his hands.

At the moment he pulled the trigger he saw the Dark Jedi's lightsaber flash out, and a split second later the man deflected the bolt that would have otherwise hit him directly in the chest.

"Should have known," Kaven murmured, and let himself be felt through the Force. The Reborn jumped, and then abruptly leapt off the balcony with his red lightsaber still blazing, landing near an officer that took a flying step backwards at the sudden appearance of the Dark Jedi, and then came flying toward the treeline. Kaven heard, faintly, "_Koooooord!_"

He grinned and set the rifle aside, then jumped down to the ground, drawing the lightsaber from his belt as he did so.

There came a series of almost electric sounds as the Reborn came hurtling through the underbrush, cursing and chopping at the vines and ferns blocking his path. A flash of red lightsaber came out of a thick bunch of greenery, and then the Dark Jedi thrust the fronds aside.

"Expecting someone else, were you?" Kaven asked, at the man's expression.

"Who the hell are _you_?" the Dark Jedi demanded.

Kaven's lightsaber ignited. "Someone you're very unlucky to have run into."

"We'll see about that." The Reborn brought his lightsaber into the opening stance Kaven had grown accustomed to seeing from their ranks-that middle style of the new Jedi order. The pilot moved into the opening guard of Makashi, and the Reborn charged. They came together, sabres locked, and over the man's shoulder Kaven caught a glimpse of a figure in an army uniform waving an arm in the direction of the bunker, calling out a group of Stormtroopers to aid the Dark Jedi. They would be there within the next forty seconds.

He then saw that the AT-STs were moving out of their crouching positions, and thought: _Bloody hell. Not _those _things._ With a mighty shove he propelled the Reborn back, and before the man could charge at him again he thrust him back with the Force, slamming him hard into a tree. Taking the second or so of time he had before the Dark Jedi recovered from the impact, Kaven felt out one of the larger trees before them and pulled on it through the Force. There came a groaning and cracking, and the tree slowly fell sideways, its massive bole blocking off the path the Reborn had hewed through the underbrush. Lips thinned with the effort, the Jedi shoved another tree on top of that one, uprooting it in a shower of dirt and leaves. The imperials would have to find a way around the mountain of trunk and splintered wood.

Panting, he faced the Reborn, who had shaken off his stupor and was regarding him with an expression reminiscent of a man who had just found out that the harmless creature before him was, in fact, virulently poisonous.

"You're not his padawan, are you?" the Dark Jedi asked. He was holding his lightsaber before him defensively. "_Are _you from the Republic?"

"Get around it," a man's voice called from beyond the barrier. It was from high up, definitely an AT-ST driver speaking. "Attack from both sides. Take that blasted Jedi down!" A mechanical clanking started up; the AT-STs were on the move, and coming closer every second.

Aware that he had very little time left, Kaven stared at the Reborn over the golden glow of his lightsaber. He had to put an end to this fight immediately.

"Well, whatever you are, you've made a grievous mistake coming here," the Dark Jedi said, advancing. _Something quick, _Kaven thought, hearing the rustle of booted feet now. The imperials were coming, and coming fast.

_Do what you must to succeed._

Kaven reached out and, using the Force, seized the Dark Jedi by the neck. A look of astonishment came over the man's face and he began to gasp for air; in response the pilot only squeezed harder. The Reborn waved a hand at him, unable to speak, and when he dropped his lightsaber Kaven felt a strange urge to throttle him as hard as he possibly could; the moment of extraordinary force he had used on Leto seemed now liberating, and he knew full well that he was capable of great feats now...

But all of this was merely a temptation, and with cold resolve Kaven only used what force was necessary to kill the Reborn, ending it off quickly and letting the body fall back amid the ferns.

"There he is-!" The pilot looked over his shoulder to see three Stormtroopers emerge from the underbrush, raising their E-11s to fire on him. He pulled the weapons out of their hands at a gesture and turned to them fully, brandishing the lightsaber. The closest fell with a deep slash across the breastplate, and while Kaven dispatched the second, who had gone immediately for his combat knife, the third Stormtrooper hesitated. The Jedi whipped around to face him. By some potent mixture of reflexes and luck the trooper ducked the swing of his lightsaber and came up again like a shot, punching him in the face. Kaven's head snapped back, and in the next second his breath rushed out of him as he landed hard on his back in the dirt with the soldier scrambling on top of him. The Stormtrooper punched him again, and before a third blow could come the Jedi slashed out blindly. The third punch never fell, and the body slid sideways off of him.

Wiping blood away with the back of his hand, Kaven flipped over onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He caught a glimpse of white armour through the foliage, and a black-and-white hand pushed aside a heavy leaf. He met the black lenses of the Stormtrooper for a second, and then everything exploded into action. He rolled aside to avoid a blaster shot, and a small geyser of dirt flew up from where it hit. The imperial soldier advanced, firing on him, and Kaven deflected each of the shots clumsily as he got to his feet. At last he stood steady, and a properly-repelled shot knocked the trooper onto his back. The man rolled aside as the Jedi stabbed downwards, but misjudged the knight's snakish speed as he brought his blaster up to fire from supine position, and misfired as the blade flash-burned through the weapon in one sweep. Kaven finished him off with a clean thrust through the heart a second later.

Before the pilot could take a breath, the world behind him suddenly exploded in a rain of splintered wood and leaves. He whirled.

The AT-STs! In his preoccupation with the Stormtroopers, he had nearly forgotten about them, and one of them had just used its concussion missile to blow apart the barrier he had erected.

Of course, that meant that the other's missile launcher was still primed and ready, and Kaven shot upward into the trees as it launched. A second explosion followed, making a crater of where he had been standing a second ago. The first scout transport swivelled to look up at him, and Kaven retreated again as its cannons fired, chopping the boughs into smithereens. The second opened fire as well. His heart pounding hard in his chest, the Jedi threw himself over their heads, somersaulting through the air and landing directly behind the second. There came two flashes as he sliced through the walker's legs, and it collapsed amid the screech of metal grinding on metal.

The first walker had turned to face him by now, and when it fired Kaven tried to block it with his lightsaber, but he hadn't been prepared for just how much impact a shot from a scout transport held, and to his horror the weapon was knocked clean out of his hands. It landed amid the shredded ferns a few metres away. Kaven scooted out of the walker's direct line of fire, moving closer to it at the same time. He suddenly thought of the Reborn's lightsaber in his robe, but before he could retrieve it the AT-ST suddenly lifted one clawed foot and brought it down again, with the intention of stomping him.

"_Holy sh_-" Kaven threw his hands up, using the Force to brace himself and hold the metal claw at bay, but it still shoved him down onto his knees. He gritted his teeth. His arms shook with the exertion, and he felt himself bowing underneath the weight of the thing. His right knee pressed hard into the dirt, making a little hollow there.

He couldn't take much more of this. Summoning what he could through the Force, he shoved hard at it, and the walker stumbled. Now free to act, the pilot clambered up the side of it and drew the Dark Jedi's lightsaber. There was a snap and crackle, and a metre of blood-red plasma emerged from its hilt. He wrenched the trapdoor open and stabbed inside. There was a soft _urk _from the driver.

Kaven jumped down as the transport slowly collapsed into a crouch. The door to the fallen AT-ST then opened with a metallic clang, and a man in an army lieutenant's uniform crawled out, pulling his goggles up onto his helmet. There was a line of blood at his nose.

He looked up at Kaven, standing silent and bedraggled before him with red lightsaber in hand, looking like a Dark Jedi fit to replace the Reborn. "I, I," he said, and stopped, uncertain of what to say. When the Jedi advanced he held up a hand, but then it fell again.

"Make it quick," he said, commanding to the last.

The pilot did.

After it was done Kaven looked around at the destruction that he had been hoping to avoid in luring the second Reborn out, and took a deep breath, extinguishing the lightsaber. He heard an alarm from the imperial base and turned away, flipping his hood up. He started away, retrieving his lightsaber as well as the Reborn's on the way by, and disappeared into the foliage.

* * *

SA-1909 hopped off the speeder bike and rushed over to where his comrades lay. All of them bore the mark of a lightsaber save for SA-089, whom the scout trooper guessed was still alive because of it. Beside him lay the bodies of two other men, one of whom had been the sergeant, and further away lay the body of Dalen Farr. As he came closer, he saw that the Stormtrooper's chest was rising and falling gently. He was alive.

"Hey-you all right?" No answer. The scout knelt at his side, looking around for Jedi and Shanasti, then put a hand on his shoulder. "Valen?" He reached out and took off the trooper's helmet, revealing a young face surrounded by a mop of blonde hair. The Stormtrooper was starting to rouse, though, and his eyelids flickered. SA-1909 glanced away for a moment to pluck a leaf from a remarkably smelly bush, then stuck the offending item under Valen's nose.

The Stormtrooper promptly stirred. "Uh." He swatted the scout's hand away. His eyes opened fully, and he suddenly sat up, nearly headbutting his comrade. "The Jedi!" He saw the bodies of the other two Stormtroopers and the Reborn, and froze. "What..."

"What happened?"

"We were chasing Telis Kord. He was picking us off, bit by bit, and we came to the clearing. Something threw me into the tree-_why _am I still alive?"

"Doesn't matter," SA-1909 said briskly, "the point is that you are. Now, we're getting back to the base on the double. Johan's comlink went dead twenty minutes ago; Kord got him. So we need to get out of here before he gets us, too."

He gave the Stormtrooper a hand up, and they got onto the speeder bike, with the trooper's arms around the scout's waist. They set off, and between the clearing and the base nothing jumped out of the greenery to assault them. They came to an abrupt halt a few hundred metres from the main bunker, looking around at the devastation.

An AT-ST lay on its side with its legs cut and the driver lying dead with a neat hole in his breast, while another crouched decrepitly nearby. That one's driver wasn't visible, but he was probably dead, too. The smell of charred wood was in the air, and pieces of broken branches lay strewn everywhere, some of them smouldering. Further away lay the bodies of four Stormtroopers and the second of their Reborn, Karris.

"Kord...he's been here, too," Valen whispered.

"Let's get back to the base."

They shot toward the complex.

* * *

Kaven looked at his reflection in the shaving mirror, noting the bruise that was starting up on his cheek and the smear of blood at the corner of his mouth and at one nostril. He touched his nose gently. It was tender still; the one Stormtrooper had nearly broken it, but with a little time and meditation it would be back to normal.

He set the mirror aside and took a washcloth from his pack, wetting it in the stream he sat beside and using it to wash away the blood and dirt of the day. Afterward he felt a little better. He still hurt all over, but he had achieved the first of his objectives.

He drew a holoprojector from the backpack, activating it. A tiny holographic image of Captain Demarco formed. "Hello, Captain," he said. "All's well on Shanast."

"All's well?" the apparition echoed. "You don't look so good."

"Thanks."

"I assume you've been...fighting?"

"Yes," said Kaven, who had been too focused on the blood, dirt, and bruises to notice that his face had taken on a slightly harder look, and who was unaware that it was that to which the young captain had referred. "Both the Reborn are dead now."

Demarco frowned. "I hadn't expected that you would...do it...so quickly. Erril, I want you to put a few days in between your next actions. Wait a standard week before taking care of the Jedi."

"I'll do that. Are you worried about something?" The captain hesitated. Kaven flashed him a wan smile. "Don't worry about me."

"I wasn't...oh...Well, I won't." The imperial officer straightened his uniform distractedly. "I'll be there within eight days to retrieve you."

"All right." After he had switched the device off, Kaven sat back with his hands laced behind his head, contemplating. He knew that he made the officer uneasy for some reason, but what that reason could be he didn't know. It certainly wasn't that Demarco was nervous around Force-users in general, for he always seemed quite relaxed around Jan, and Kaven doubted that the man tended toward nervousness, since Captain Rathbone had chosen him to be second-in-command of such a big enterprise. So why did he seem a bit tense sometimes with him? Kaven was used to reactions of irritation, flirty interest, and exasperation in varying amounts, but never unease. It was strange.

* * *

Over the next few days Kaven used the Force to speed his recovery, and when he was not meditating he was moving through the jungle, keeping an eye on the goings-on around him. Once he had run into a Shanasti; that incident had become a sort of standoff as the reptilian creature and the human had stood stock-still, staring at each other, the Shanasti only visible from the chest up but still a good two metres or so in height. It had stared at him through large black oil-drop eyes and Kaven had stared right back, one hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. It had cocked its head at him, stood and stared for a few long moments more, and then had disappeared from view. The alien had left him then, and Kaven had watched with fascination as it blended in so perfectly with its environment, seeing only its dark eyes moving away, still watching him carefully. Nothing more had come of that encounter, though the Jedi was certain that the natives were keeping tabs on him whenever he went within a certain range of the rebel camp.

A couple of days after that incident he had been awakened by the sounds of blaster fire and missiles, and when he had followed the sounds to their source he had witnessed a land battle between rebel and imperial forces. From where he had been sitting on a thick bough the pilot had watched the skirmish through his electrobinoculars. He had felt more life on the battlefield than he had seen, and the reason became clear when he saw a Shanasti suddenly appear behind an imperial officer and thrust its spear through his back.

The imperials had lost that one, and quite badly at that. They had retreated, with the Stormtroopers providing suppressive fire to keep the rebels at bay. Kaven had climbed down from the tree with thunderclouds on his brow, hating to see the Empire's forces getting slaughtered.

When the day came to see to Telis Kord, Kaven set out for the rebel base. Before he got there, he was intercepted by two Shanasti on a jungle path a kilometre from the camp. Both of them were huge, each Hrakis' height, and muscular. Both held sturdy iron-tipped spears and had large knives sheathed at their belts.

"Salasii vos wana Telis Kord?" one asked. "Vos wana Republica?" When Kaven hesitated, it pointed to the lightsaber at his hip and clarified, "You Jeedai?"

The pilot nodded. "Yes. I'm a Jedi. I'm with the Republic. I want to see Telis Kord; can you take me to him?"

"Yaya, you fight Empire. We see, we watch, we know. You padawan, Telis Kord?"

"No. But I know him."

At that the two Shanasti exchanged a look and whispered with each other a moment, then the one that (sort of) spoke Basic said, "We take you. Come with us, chop-chop quick."

The aliens set off, with Kaven jogging behind them. They moved very quickly through the dense jungle, never putting a foot wrong or stumbling on a root, while the pilot struggled to keep up with them. Twice he nearly tripped, and once caught his robes on a thorny bush, but in the end he managed to keep them in sight and get to the rebel encampment in one piece.

Once there, they were accosted by a couple of guards at the gate. "Who is this?" one of them asked. They both stood facing Kaven, hands on their blasters, regarding him suspiciously.

"He Jeedai," the Basic-speaking Shanasti said.

The human's brow furrowed as he looked back to Kaven, taking in his dark brown robes and his raised hood. "Jedi, huh...Say, you're not one of those _Reborn_, are you?"

"No," the pilot replied. "I'm a Jedi Knight. I've come to aid Shanast."

"Hmm." The guard drew his comlink from his pocket and opened it. "General Kord? There's a man here to see you...says that he's a Jedi. ...Yes, General. We'll escort him inside right away." He put it back into his pocket. "Looks like he was expecting you...so it's true, then. There were rumours of somebody with a lightsaber running around."

Kaven considered. It would probably be best to keep his identity secret from the Republic as well, and these two would definitely shoot him if they knew that he was there to assassinate their general. The Shanasti he could let go, since they were primitives, but these two...well...they might report his identity, and he couldn't let that happen.

He nodded. "Take me to Master Kord."

* * *

The control room was oddly empty when Kaven and the guards entered, empty save for a sturdily built man in pockmarked armour, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back before a great window overlooking the airfield. The two men at his side noticed the strangeness of it as well and exchanged a look, their eyebrows raised. At a gesture from Kaven, the door forced itself shut behind them. When the guards turned to look, there was a flash of gold and both of them crumpled.

"I heard those two Reborn on the imperial side were killed by somebody wielding a lightsaber," the armoured man said, as the pilot stepped over the bodies.

"Another Jedi," Kaven said, lowering his hood.

Now Telis Kord turned around. "You are not a Jedi," he said, enunciating each word. He was an older man, probably in his mid-fifties, with a short, pointed grey beard and a tight topknot. Blaster shots scarred his armour, and something about the look of him awoke some old memory in Kaven, like a half-remembered dream.

"I am an imperial Jedi," Kaven said. "The first."

Kord came closer. "There are no imperial Jedi," he said derisively. "Only Dark Jedi. The Empire's tied itself to the dark side." Kaven frowned. "As your Captain Rathbone well knows."

"You...know him?"

The Jedi Master's face was impassive. "He's not somebody that you should trust, boy-in fact he's one of the greatest traitors in the galaxy."

"I trust him," Kaven retorted. "I would trust him with my life. You Republic scum can say what you will, but you don't know him."

Kord shook his head. "Do _you _even know him?"

The pilot let that one pass. Instead he asked, "How have you heard of the captain?"

"We've met," Kord said flatly. "Maybe he'll be kind enough to tell you about it after you've finished your little assassination job, hmm? But probably not. Tell me, young man-what kind of government do you think your New Empire will turn out to be if this is its beginning? Assassination, covert operations, fraud, treason?"

"Sounds like the Rebel Alliance to me," Kaven shot back. "How do you know about the New Empire?"

"I've heard rumours of an underground imperial movement. Some detractors of Palpatine disappearing and never confirmed dead. Spacers telling stories about some gigantic Star Destroyer sighted on the fringes of known space. Word of something like that-it leaks," the Jedi told him. "Rumours add up. The imperials find out about this, and Republic spies find out what the imperials know."

The imperial knight shook his head, reaching for the lightsaber at his hip. "You know too much, Master Kord. I'm sorry."

Kord's lightsaber shot from his belt into his hand. "You have the advantage of me, young...knight of the Empire. If I'm to be assassinated, I'd like to know the name of the man trying to kill me."

"Erril Kaven," the pilot said.

The Jedi Master nodded gravely. "There. That does it, then. Whatever happens now, it's all secure."

Kaven paused. "Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, cautiously.

Kord swept a hand, indicating the room around them. "You are now on security footage, identified by name as an imperial agent. Every word we've spoken in this room has been transmitted to the Republic fleet."

Kaven swore, feeling a cold hand seize his stomach.

"I agree," the Jedi said. "Now, boy, you have two choices: You can surrender to us now, and leave Shanast as our prisoner. Or, you can face me and not leave Shanast at all."

"Surrender or die?"

"That's one more choice than you were planning to give me."

The two had begun to circle each other. That he would be recorded had not occurred to Kaven, and he knew that he really had only one way out now: Kill Telis Kord, as was his final mission objective. He looked at the man, at his strong build and the comfortable way in which he held his lightsaber, as though it were a part of him, and thought: _He's a Jedi Master. This is impossible-no, Captain Rathbone said he had faith in me. He wouldn't send me on a suicide mission._

With a snap and crackle his lightsaber ignited. Kord looked at his posture with an upraised eyebrow.

"Old Republic," he said. "Makashi." His own blade hissed out, a shining blue.

"Old Republic. Shien," Kaven replied, as the Jedi Master shifted into his own opening stance. "Let's go. Jedi."

Kord was fast, Kaven saw a moment later, as their sabres collided in bursts of blue and gold. He wasn't quite as agile as the pilot, but his years of experience guided his lightsaber and skill bridged the movement gap between them. Kaven, by contrast, saw that he was going to be overwhelmed by the Jedi if he didn't think of something. He was holding his own for now, but there had to be some advantage that he could press.

"You have some skills, Kaven," the older man said, thrusting the imperial knight's weapon aside. He did not punch Kaven in the stomach, as Hrakis had once done, but instead pushed him with the Force, sending him skidding backwards across the floor.

"I've trained with the best," Kaven told him, righting himself again. _What would Talos do? _he wondered. _I'm outmatched with the lightsaber, but..._

"That talent's being wasted with the Empire. You could have been a Jedi."

"I am an _imperial _Jedi."

"Rathbone's not interested in an order of imperial Jedi-he has his own agenda," the Jedi Master insisted. "Don't think he's got some nobility in mind, boy; what he wants is the galaxy crushed under the Empire's bootheels. _His _Empire's bootheels."

Kaven shook his head. "No, you don't understand, Master Kord. Captain Rathbone is trying to create a different Empire, one without the influence of the Sith."

"Do you think that's true?"

The pilot's lips thinned. "I've _seen _the New Empire. There's nothing of the dark side there."

Kord frowned. "He's charismatic, isn't he?"

"Don't even try to make me doubt my captain!"

"He speaks smoothly, sounds convincing, has a way with words...a born leader." The Jedi Master gestured. "But he'll never say what he's really planning or what he's really thinking."

"He's practical."

"He's ruthless, manipulative, and treacherous," Kord said flatly. "Kaven, you _must _look past everything that he's told you. Lee Rathbone's heart is as cold as the planet he was born on, and he is a very skilled liar." Kaven shook his head again. The Jedi continued, "I met him once, back when he was a teenager. He'd made friends with a couple of the Jedi. Then, after Order 66 was given, he joined the Empire. The Empire! He joined the very thing responsible for gunning them down. And he was very loyal to Palpatine."

_That can't be! _Kaven thought. _Why would he...Kord _must _be lying, he _must _be._

"Your captain is skilled at getting what he wants," Kord said. "And what he wants is for you to think of him as some kind of...saint, just as Palpatine had done when-"

"Shut up!" Kaven snapped, feeling a tiny trickle of doubt and not liking it one bit.

"-when he was Supreme Chancellor in the olden days of the Republic," Kord finished, firmly. "And history will repeat itself. You can't trust Rathbone."

"I can," Kaven replied coldly, "and I _will_. No matter where it takes me."

"This is your last chance," the older man warned. "Surrender now."

"No. Never."

They came together again. Kaven's strokes were faster, hastened by his frustration, but Kord read his intentions in the Force and parried each and every one of them. This continued until both men attempted to shove each other back with the Force, at which point they both skidded back on their heels, panting and glaring at each other over their lightsabers.

By now a pounding had begun on the door, and a man's voice called, "General? General? What's going on in there? Are you all right?"

The Jedi turned his head a little, not taking his eyes off the imperial assassin. "I'm-_hkk!_" He raised a hand to his throat as Kaven began to choke him through the Force, and to the knight's shock he managed to throw off the grip. "-_hah-_there's an imperial officer in here claiming to be a Jedi." His hand snapped forward, and what felt like a solid wall hit the pilot. He flew through the air, hit the opposite wall, and fell in a heap on the floor.

Kaven looked up to see Kord approaching him, rubbing his neck. "I _thought _I sensed the dark side in you," the older man growled.

_Do what you must to succeed, _Kaven thought.

Then: _Let me show you how hard _I _can do it these days, Rebel._

He gathered all of the energy he had, thinking of the Battle of Yavin, of the failed mission on Leto, and of the lies-they _had _to be lies-Kord had just spoken about his captain, and released it all in a thunderous blast that nearly blew the room apart. There was a brittle crash as all the windows shattered amid the crunch of metal and plastic.

In the silence that followed, Kord got slowly to his feet. His armour was dented from where he had struck the wall, and wisps of hair were hanging over his face, having escaped his topknot. He reached up and wiped blood from his nose, glancing at it before his gaze moved to Kaven, standing opposite him with a sharp smile. "You're more powerful than I expected," he said. "I-I see. You've been to the Valley of the Jedi."

"Yes." Kaven's smile held the edge of a knife. Already he wanted to unleash another pulsation, to see whether he could make it even greater this time. The feeling was not unlike a few combat flights in the past; sometimes the urge to blow everything to smithereens had come upon him in his ship, and he had indulged it as often as he could back then.

He took a few steps forward, past a sparking bank of lights, and would have let loose another blast then and there but for a memory that came to him, of one of those flights. He and his wing mates had been engaged with a bunch of pirate ships; the feeling and the release had been so euphoric that he had begun to laugh, and the laugh had quickly become a cackle. Kore had been quick to call him out on it; _Pardon my Corellian, Lieutenant, _the pilot had said over the com, sounding a bit unsettled, _but _damn _do you sound evil._

That curtailed the urge for destruction, and Kaven hesitated. He was starting to slip again.

His hesitation cost him, and a second later he was backtracking, furiously turning aside a barrage of blows from Kord. One of them slipped past his lightsaber and he jerked aside. The glowing blade passed through his cloak, and he hit the Jedi Master with the Force again. When the man stumbled back, Kaven leapt backwards, out of reach of his lightsaber.

"The Force is strong with you," Kord said. He was starting to look ragged, but he was still better off than the imperial knight.

_I've got to finish this quick, _Kaven thought. _Otherwise he's going to wear _me _down._

"Was it part of Rathbone's plan?" the Jedi asked. "That you stepped into the Force nexus?"

Kaven shook his head. "He never planned it. _I _never planned it." The room was in tatters, and broken bits of computer and radio equipment littered the floor. Getting an idea, the young man concentrated on a computer terminal out of Kord's sight, floating it into the air and preparing to throw it at the man.

As he had expected, Kord severed the lump of twisted metal and plastic with a swing of his lightsaber, and then abruptly found himself defending from a barrage of all the refuse that Kaven could tear up.

Suddenly it all stopped, and the knight froze. Kord was standing with his back to the window, his hands outstretched and a look of determination on his face. All around him floated the broken machinery. The pieces suddenly shot at Kaven, who brought his hands up and thrust back. They returned to Kord as if shot from cannons. What followed was a brief and very crowded moment, as the window shattered from the force of the metal barrage and the Jedi Master's body, and as Kaven found himself being yanked out along with them all through the Force. In the next moment he was in bright sunlight and sky, and falling toward the encampment five stories below, along with Kord.

* * *

The imperial shuttle emerged from hyperspace, and from where he sat in the passenger's seat with his legs crossed, Captain Aedin Demarco felt the craft tremble as it returned to sub-lightspeed.

"What a battleground," he heard one of the pilots in the cockpit remark. Then, over the intercom, the man said, "We have reached the Shanal System, Captain. ETA approximately one hour, forty-eight minutes."

"Good," Demarco said, and settled back to plan out their course of action once they had breached the atmosphere of Shanast.

* * *

Even though he had cushioned himself through the Force, Kaven still hit the ground harder than he would have liked, forcibly dropping into a crouching position as his knees buckled. Kord didn't fare any better, and even fell to his hands and knees upon impact.

"I'm going to...give you...one more chance, Kaven," the Jedi said, climbing to his feet. Around them a siren had sounded, and several hundred metres away pilots were climbing into their X- and Y-wings. A TIE Fighter screamed overhead. The air was filled with the sound of heavy blasters.

"No, Master Kord," the knight replied, straightening as well. His hair clung damply to his forehead. "I can't surrender. And I won't."

The TIE came careening over the treetops, and both Jedi threw themselves aside as it sprayed the field with laser fire. "So, you've got air support," Kord said.

An idea came to mind. "In a manner of speaking," Kaven told him, and used the Force to grab the imperial ship and yank it down. It fell like a meteor toward Kord, who leapt aside as it struck the ground in a blast of flame. The imperial knight cursed.

"You imperials really don't give a damn about your own troops, do you?" the old man said derisively, picking himself up again. Kaven hurriedly put his hood up. "Or maybe...you just don't want to be identified here."

"You got that right." _X-Wings, _the pilot noted, as a pair of ships came speeding toward them to engage a trio of TIE Interceptors. _Those guys are going to fire on me if they think I'm a Jedi, _he thought, glancing at the Interceptors. _So maybe...it couldn't hurt..._

He extinguished his lightsaber and replaced it at his hip. Kord raised an eyebrow. "What are you on about, boy?" he asked suspiciously, as Kaven reached into an inner pocket of his robe.

_At this distance they'll probably think I'm one of those Reborn, _Kaven thought. He ignited the red lightsaber he now held, courtesy of the late Dalen Farr.

It worked. As the X-Wings and the wing of TIEs clashed overhead, none of them paid any attention to him. One of the Interceptors, however, fired on Kord, who deflected the shot back at the ship, cleanly missing it; TIE ships were far too fast to hit that way. The Jedi Master was very strong to do that, the knight mused, remembering how the shot from the AT-ST had knocked the lightsaber right out of his hands.

The older man came at him again, and their lightsabers clashed in a frenzied blaze of colour. By now Kaven was getting tired, and every movement was more effort than it should have been. Kord was wearing him down.

With a hard sweep of his lightsaber, the Jedi Master struck Kaven's blade aside, and before the imperial officer could react, Kord's fist collided with his cheek. He did a half flip in the air and landed hard on his side. Then he twisted and sprang away as a shining blue blade buried itself in the pavement where he had been lying a nanosecond earlier.

Kaven straightened from a crouching position, and his left hand shot forward as he concentrated on gripping the Jedi through the Force. He knew that he wouldn't have Kord for long, but a moment was all he needed. His head pounding with fatigue, he reached out and gripped the X-Wings above them as well, then tore them down.

Kord's eyes widened. "You-" What he might have said was lost in the explosion that rocked the field as the three ships hit the ground from three different directions, directly where he had been standing. His essence in the Force winked out.

Once the smoke cleared, Kaven caught a glimpse of a scrap of tan cloth in the wreckage, tan cloth that ended in a gloved hand, pinned beneath the blackened remains of an X-Wing's fuselage. A battered lightsaber lay beside it. The knight lifted his hand and pulled the lightsaber into it.

_Your men will take care of your funeral, General, _he thought, turning away. A wave of dizziness struck him, and he fell to one knee. After a few moments he rose again, still light-headed. He had overexerted himself.

He stumbled toward a set of speeder bikes that had been parked outside the entrance to the rebel base. As he seated himself on one, a squiggle came from his comlink.

He lifted it. "_Erril? Erril, are you there?_" a man's voice was demanding. Clear tones. A Core accent. It took Kaven a moment to realize that it was Demarco.

"I'm here, Captain," he said. "Kord's dead now. I'm getting away from the rebel base."

"_You sound exhausted. Anyway, we're coming planetside now-_" Demarco gave him the coordinates for their landing. "_-so I want you to rendezvous with us immediately. Change into your uniform, however. Don't worry about the pilots seeing you; they know that __**you were here to take care of Telis Kord.**_"The imperial captain paused. "_There are medical supplies available if you need them. Remain on board the ship while I visit the base._"

"Roger that, Captain," Kaven replied, starting off on the bike. "See you later."

* * *

"The rebels have taken our command post at the beachhead," Major Faulkner said, "and they are now moving south toward the base. Most of the men are no longer in fighting shape; we have set up traps and fortifications along the way, but if the Republic makes it this far, we will not be able to stand up to any prolonged fighting. We simply don't have the manpower."

He and the other officers in the room exchanged a look, then turned to General Aukren, who was poring over the holographic display before them. The general's right arm was in a sling, courtesy of a skirmish with some rebel commandos.

"We can hold out long enough for the reinforcements to arrive," General Aukren said. He was drumming the fingers of his left hand on the table. At a collective shift from the dozen or so officers in the room, he looked up. "Is that not correct, then?" he asked, frowning.

Major Faulkner wet his lips, then said, "General...the reinforcements are not coming." The silence that followed this rang loud in the little room, and out of the corner of his eye the major saw a lieutenant raise a fist to his mouth.

Aukren went still. "What?"

Faulkner looked to Ganz, who delivered the news in his stead. "We just received a transmission from the fleet," the younger man said. "The...rebel fleet is overwhelming them. They will be making the jump to lightspeed shortly. They said that they will not be able to perform a rescue operation for the remaining forces on Shanast."

"I...I see," said Aukren. With a shaking hand he reached up and removed the glasses, then took a deep breath. "Faulkner, Ganz, you will remain in here," he said quietly. "The rest of you-go."

The other officers shuffled out wordlessly, leaving the four standing alone in the little office. The door hissed shut behind them, and Faulkner drew a breath.

"So," said Aukren, after a moment's silence. "We've been completely abandoned." He stood up. "The admiral and his fleet are leaving us to die or surrender, without any hope of getting off-planet." He moved to the single small window, where he looked out. Smoke was rising in the distance.

"General-" Major Faulkner began.

Aukren whipped around. "Is this what the Empire is coming to!" he demanded. "Our forces spread thinly across the Outer Rim, infighting killing us as surely as the rebels? Ineffectual and so-called "elite" Dark Jedi forced upon our troops without any advanced military training whatsoever, to serve as commanders? Telis Kord cut through those Reborn like they were stalks of wheat! _Wheat!_ And now they're abandoning us to die at the hands of those filthy rebels when things got a little heated!" As he spoke the general's voice had slowly risen, and now he was shouting. "If I ever see Admiral Zahn again in this life, I am going to strangle him with his own entrails! If I do _not, _then I will see him in hell and do the same!"

He continued to rant and rave, while on the other side of the wall the officers that he had sent out listened with grey faces. From where he stood, still biting his knuckle, Lieutenant von Hammerstein could see that Captain Pullman's face was ashen. Perhaps she was thinking of her sons back on Dantooine, but maybe it was just their future prospects. The future was as heavy and grey and cheerless as lead, and he knew that unless they surrendered, they would not have long to live. He glanced at the others. All grim-no exceptions. Most were pale.

He took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair nervously before replacing it. Through the door the general's voice could clearly be heard: there were no reinforcements coming, Admiral Zahn had abandoned them all, the Reborn had been useless, they would all die or be prisoners of the Republic.

_Please, General, _the lieutenant thought, _Don't let pride override your good sense. Choose surrender. _At von Hammerstein's side another lieutenant rubbed his temple. There was no one among them that even pretended to not be listening; those gazes that were not on the floor were on the door.

Presently footsteps caught the lieutenant's attention, and he turned, along with a few others, to see an unfamiliar officer and a trio of Stormtroopers coming down the hall toward them, led by a young second lieutenant whose name escaped von Hammerstein at the moment. The man wore a commander's markings, despite his youth, but what stood out was the air of vitality about him. After the last few weeks among their increasingly demoralized troops, it seemed striking to von Hammerstein that anyone should have such spirit left.

"The general is in here, sir," the sub lieutenant accompanying the mysterious commander said, gesturing to the door. The commander nodded and, without a word, opened the door and went in, to the shock of all.

"Who is that?" von Hammerstein hissed.

"Captain Demarco," the younger man told him.

The name was familiar to von Hammerstein. "The same Demarco from Resade...?" Smiling, the sub lieutenant nodded. Then all was silent again as the group listened.

* * *

When the door opened, admitting an unfamiliar officer and his Stormtroopers, Major Faulkner looked to Major Ganz, who looked just as stumped as he felt.

"What do you want?" Aukren demanded harshly, then took a breath. "You're not one of my men," he added, in a calmer tone.

"General Aukren, I'm Captain Aedin Demarco," the man said. He was quite young, with black hair and clear blue eyes. He bowed shortly. "My men and I are aware of the crisis on Shanast, and to be short about it, we are here to offer you aid."

"How many of you _are _there?" the general asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Aside from myself, a dozen Stormtroopers and a captain, who has chosen to remain behind with the shuttle," Demarco replied. "That is, on Shanast itself."

"What kind of aid can you offer, then?"

"We intercepted a transmission from the fleet that had been orbiting the planet until a few minutes ago," the young officer told him. "Should you accept my terms, we can arrange for a full rescue operation within the next twenty-four hours. The rest of my men are standing by for my orders."

"Here now, what game are you playing at?" Major Faulkner demanded. "Should your terms not be accepted, do you intend to simply leave us on Shanast?"

"If you do not accept my terms," Demarco said quietly, "then we will perform the rescue regardless, and drop you off at the nearest neutral planet."

General Aukren paused. "You're...from that New Empire faction, aren't you." The captain nodded. "You're aware that we are members of the Reborn faction." Another nod.

"Aren't the New Empire criminals?" Faulkner asked, before he could stop himself. Everyone looked at him. "That is-they've been accused of treason, conspiracy to undermine the Empire...er..."

"The New Empire does not support Emperor Palpatine, and it does not recognize the authority of Sith and Dark Jedi," Demarco told him. "We support a...change...of imperial law, to a less totalitarian standard. If that is criminal, then yes, we are criminals. But our underlying goal is the revival of the Empire."

Aukren considered. "What are your terms?"

"That you join our faction. Your Stormtroopers, your officers, any remaining equipment and droids in working or reparable condition."

Aukren's fingers drummed on the desk. "And?"

Demarco straightened. "Those are our terms, sir."

"Surely there is a catch behind all this, Captain Demarco."

"If you join us you will be considered criminals as the Empire considers us, until we become a legitimate faction. You will ultimately fall under the command of Captain Lee Rathbone, who is our leader. You will follow our codes and our laws." The captain glanced around him, and looked meaningfully at the door, where the vacuum silence of a dozen people listening hard emanated. "But if you or any of those under your command are not willing to join us, those individuals are to be returned to imperial territory. Entralla has been decided as our drop point."

"You're being remarkably fair, if this is in fact the truth," General Aukren remarked.

Demarco shrugged. "The captain believes diplomacy is preferable to...strong-arm tactics."

The general rubbed one temple. "After today, I would very much like to meet your captain." He sat down again, considering. At last he said, "I will agree to your terms, Captain Demarco. We will arrange a rendezvous point at this base. Those who do not wish to merge with the New Empire will be taken to Entralla."

* * *

The squiggle came over the comlink: "_General Aukren and his men have agreed to join us. Send a transmission to Captain Ellery and tell her to set a course for Shanast immediately, along with the appropriate transports. Number of persons to be evacuated is an estimated 7700, along with twelve AT-STs and perhaps 180,000 kilograms of munitions, droids, and other supplies. Have her relay the results to Captain Rathbone as well._"

"Roger that, sir," the pilot sitting on the left side of the cockpit said. From where Kaven lay on his back across the seats in the passenger compartment of the imperial shuttle, he heard the muffled slap of leather and cracked open an eye. The pilots had just given each other a high five. The knight looked back to the ceiling of the craft again and closed his eyes.

* * *

When the _Chiron _suddenly came out of hyperspace several hours later, the remaining Republic fleet was shocked at the appearance of a Super Star Destroyer; Admiral Zahn's fleet had contained no such thing, and there were only a pair of transport ships accompanying it.

Captain Elroos of the Mon Calamari cruiser _Banshee _reached for the com to contact the unknown imperial ship, but the radio crackled to life before he could say anything. "_New Republic fleet, this is the _Chiron," a woman's voice said. "_We request that you stand aside and allow us to evacuate the remaining imperial troops on the planet's surface._"

Elroos looked at the triangular form of the _Chiron _looming before them. It floated parallel to the _Banshee, _in a good position to let loose a devastating broadside if its request was not met. _It's huge, _the Shistavanen thought. _Like the Executor._

He considered, then reached for the com. "We hear your request, _Chiron,_" he said over the channel. "You have three hours to complete your operation; after this time expires, any remaining imperials will be registered prisoners of the New Republic, and hostilities will resume."

"_Understood, Banshee._"

The transport ships and a trio of _Lambda-_class shuttles fired away toward the planet's surface. As he watched them go, it occurred to Elroos that he had never mentioned the name of his ship.

* * *

Kaven awoke as Demarco and his Stormtroopers sat down across from him. He pushed himself into a sitting position. "We're travelling with the _Chiron_?" he asked, trying to shake off the unpleasant dreams he had been having. They had been overly vivid and invasive, the kind that always accompanied doses of medication.

"No, _we're _going directly to Canaida," Demarco said. "Captain Ellery will take care of the situation with General Aukren and his men; the ones that join us will be taken to Dessim. What's wrong?"

Kaven blinked. "Huh? Oh...nothing. I'm just tired-and the meds I took after getting back didn't help much."

Demarco watched him carefully for a few moments, then finally nodded and sat back, not saying anything. There was a tremble as the craft made its jump into hyperspace.

* * *

Over the next few days the imperial troops were taken first to Ioun, where Captain Rathbone and a party of selected personnel met them. The meetings were long, and the captains handled them carefully. Afterward General Aukren took census of his troops.

In the end, out of the seven thousand seven hundred and eight people that had been evacuated from Shanast that day, six thousand and eighty-nine elected to join the New Empire. The others, a large number of them officers or Stormtroopers of a more traditionally imperial cut, were taken to Entralla, where they could rejoin the Empire at large.

It was a shocking turnout, Demarco thought, as he walked down the corridor to his office on Canaida. In the beginning of their recruitments, it was only the vast minority of a group that chose to join them. Then again, that had been a few years ago, and things changed. The Remnant was changing-departing from Palpatine's order one step at a time. He paused outside the door to his office, thinking about that, then smiled a little. With men like Palpatine, Tarkin, and Darth Vader no longer in power, things were slowly moving in a different direction. It was too naive to think that the Empire would one day become a shining force, but it pleased Demarco to see that egalitarianism had begun to displace tyranny. Captain Rathbone had always aimed for that; he, of all people, was the idealistic one between them.

Demarco had mentioned that once, remarking that he would have expected it to be the reverse, that the younger man be the optimistic one. Captain Rathbone had smiled and agreed with him. _Nonetheless, I cannot be expected to abandon my ideals the moment I hit thirty, _he had replied. _I should hate to see a world where no one followed his higher principles._

As he opened the door and walked into his office, his thoughts moving idly to how following higher principles was noble, but a lot of work, Major Romulus Kaine passed by in the corridor, walking toward the elevator.

The major stepped into the elevator, and folded his arms thoughtfully as the car descended. He had heard the news, of course, that the imperials on Shanast had abandoned the Reborn faction and joined them, but he also knew that they had given Shanast up despite having the power to take it.

The elevator door slid open, and he stepped out, setting off in the direction of the hangar. His leave had begun, and he would return to Canaida in two weeks.

* * *

"The mission went well, Captain," Kaven said, once he and Captain Rathbone were alone. He reached into his outer robe, and took out the three lightsabers that he had obtained from Telis Kord and the Reborn. "As you can see."

The captain took them, and looked at the imperial knight. Kaven was smiling slightly, on one side of his mouth. There was something hard about that smile. "Well done," he said. Then he saw that the young man was simply pleased by the fact of a successful mission. The hardness was gone. _Just my imagination, _he decided.

"I would like you to continue training your brother until it is time for your next mission," he told the pilot. Kaven nodded. "He spends his time with the holocrons otherwise; I have no doubt that they are able teachers, but I would prefer a more hands-on element to the training."

"I agree," Kaven said. "During that fight with Kord, I realized that I could use some extra time with the sabre droids."

He turned to go, but then stopped in front of the doorway. "Captain. Something came up with Kord," he said. "...He knew you."

An alarm bell rang in the captain's mind. "Yes?" he asked, his voice neutral.

"He said that you were one of the greatest traitors in the galaxy." Kaven's voice was neutral as well. "That you were cavorting with the Jedi before Order 66 was given-then joined up with the Empire right after."

"What did he imply to you?" the officer asked, carefully. "That I...assassinated a Jedi?

Now Kaven turned around. "I don't know, Captain," he said. "_Did _you assassinate a Jedi?"

Captain Rathbone's expression was neutral; he was not about to let the knight see what he was thinking. "No, Erril," he said. "I did not. I was...on good terms...with the Jedi."

"Then why did you join the Empire?"

The captain hesitated. Should he tell Erril the truth-the real reason that he had joined the Empire? It would raise too many questions. Instead he said, "I had my own agenda, Erril."

"That's what Kord said," the Jedi said flatly.

"What did he imply?"

"That you betrayed the Jedi," Kaven replied. Captain Rathbone could see that he didn't know what to think, that he saw that things were not adding up. "That you're not quite what you're claiming to be."

The imperial officer stared hard at him, trying to gauge if he had realized anything untoward, and concluded that Erril was still ignorant of the real story. "That's what he implied," Kaven added.

"I see. And might I surmise that you've taken his story to be gospel truth?" Captain Rathbone asked.

"No...part of me thinks that he was just spouting off."

"And the other part?"

"I trust you, Captain," Kaven said, "and part of me thinks that it might not always be a good idea to do that. You probably have a good reason for withholding information the way you do, so I'll just have to live with it if you don't want to tell me why. May I go now?"

"You may," the captain told him. Kaven turned back to the door, reaching for the keypad. "Erril." The young man stopped. "Rest assured that I do have a good reason."

"All right," Kaven said, noncommittally, and left.

After the door had closed behind him, Captain Rathbone sat down with a sigh. _Damn it, Kord, _he thought.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Aaaaand, the most blatant reference _ever_ to George R.R Martin's _A Song of Ice and Fire_ was made. =P For those that caught it, high five! For those that didn't, "Winter is coming." is the motto of house Stark. It ain't my brainchild. Actually, there's a lot of little winks and nods in here, usually at least one per chapter. Pointing any more out would take away the fun, though, right?


	15. Chapter 14: Strange Bedfellows

**Chapter 14:**

**Strange Bedfellows**

_Entralla. A small, terrestrial planet located in the Velcar sector of Imperial space._

_Nexus City._

The restaurant was bustling, filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation in at least thirty-eight languages. Smoothing his uniform with his hands, Major Kaine stepped through the room. He had not bothered to change into civilian clothing; he was an imperial officer on an imperial planet, and he felt he cut a handsome figure as he made his way to the table they had reserved for him.

At last he caught sight of his contact, a dark-haired man sitting and gazing out the window with his hands folded in his lap. His profile was nearly to Kaine; he was younger than the major, with a bit of a pointed face and good, regular features. A pair of thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose, and he wore the faraway look of a man waiting for someone.

Kaine smiled. "Commander Stavan," he said.

The man's head turned at that. "Romulus Kaine, I presume." His eyes were dark blue. He gestured. "Have a seat."

"I took the liberty of ordering for you," he added, as Kaine slid in across from him. "Medium rare."

"Perfectly acceptable," the major agreed. "I don't mind a little blood." There was a bottle of red wine sitting on the table. He took it, glancing at the label before removing the cork. "You know, you're a bit younger than I was expecting," he remarked, pouring them each a glass. "But I guess it's not surprising-the average age in the Empire is dropping these days."

Stavan nodded politely. "Is it true that the New Empire has Jedi working for it?" he asked.

Kaine waggled his hand in the universal gesture of _so-so. _"In a way. There are two in total, a couple of brothers. One seems to be a full-blown Jedi...he's been doing missions for Captain Rathbone...but the other's in training."

Stavan's glass halted halfway to his lips. "The missions. Was one of them on Leto?"

Kaine's smile was feline. "You know, I think it was."

The commander put the glass down. "This Jedi, what is his name?" he asked, taking a datapad out of a briefcase that was sitting beside his chair.

"Erril Kaven-he used to be in the navy. A TIE pilot."

"One of the best," Stavan said softly, turning the device on.

"Pardon?"

"He holds a record for number of ships shot down in one battle. I was on Salamand at the time. His brother's name...?"

"Jan Kaven."

"Prior to becoming a Jedi, Erril Kaven served with the fleet of Admiral Makar. Is the admiral a member of the New Empire as well?" Stavan asked.

"Yes, he is. He often ferries new recruits to the Unknown Regions, though the _Imperial Dawn-_his ship-doesn't come to Canaida itself."

"Canaida?"

"Our core world. Deep in the unknown regions past Bastion and the like. I don't know what the coordinates are-you'll have to do without them."

Stavan raised an eyebrow. "Surely they're in your ship's computer."

Kaine chuckled. "Well, you'd think that, but..." He ran a finger along the rim of his wine glass. "There's a very clever hacker in the captain's employ that designed a program for our ships, a sort of one-shot upload of the hyperspace coordinates. After they're used, the disc or card or whatever is used is wiped completely clean."

"Can the device itself be hacked?"

"Apparently if one tries, it self-destructs."

"Bugger," Stavan said, then cleared his throat. "Unfortunate, I mean. Canaida...I see. Are there any other planets under neo-imperial control?"

"Kantos, Dessim..." Kaine listed what he knew, while Stavan took it down in his datapad. "...the whereabouts of which I can't tell you, in all cases. They've got the same 'admit one' thing as Canaida."

"Is Captain Rathbone the sole leader?" Stavan asked. "Does he report to anyone?"

Kaine laughed aloud at the last. "From the way Rathbone acts, he probably thinks any emperor they get ought to report to _him! _No. He doesn't report to anyone-anyone that I'm aware of. He does have a partner in the faction, though-Captain Aedin Demarco." He sipped his wine thoughtfully. "There are a few people that are probably his personal agents," he said. "The Jedi, Kaven, for one. And...a couple of the intelligence men report to him directly, I'm sure. Hard to tell...he keeps things quiet."

The commander reached for his own glass. "There's an intelligence branch?"

"Not official. It's a small group of, oh, slicers, spies, investigators, that sort of thing. A few of them weren't actually in intelligence before they joined up."

"Hmm."

A waitress came bearing their meals-two nerf steaks, one medium rare and the other well done, each with a side of Corellian new potatoes and a salad. After she had left, Stavan looked up from his plate to Kaine, who sat looking at him with his head cocked, an odd little smile on his face. He was swirling the wine in his glass. "You question hard," he remarked. "Actively, I mean. Why don't we slow it down a bit over dinner-get to know each other a little?"

"As you wish," Stavan said.

"Think we'll get dessert?" one of the well-dressed gentlemen at the next table asked. There were two of them, both wearing cream-coloured suits. A stylish cream fedora sat on the table at each man's elbow.

"Might as well," his companion answered. "And coffee."

On the other side of the room, a muscular man in a black suit reading a newspaper glanced at the two officers over the headlines, then went back to reading.

"Mm," said Kaine, putting a bite of steak in his mouth. "Delicious. ...So, Stavan-out of curiosity, what brought you to me?"

"You came to _me_, Kaine." Stavan refilled his glass of wine.

"Perhaps our meeting was just a blessing of the Force, then." Kaine took another bite, savouring it. Stavan hadn't opened up to him yet, but he found that he was enjoying himself nonetheless; part of that enjoyment stemmed from the knowledge that if Captain Rathbone knew about this, he would be _furious_. Well, he had a few surprises lined up for the good captain.

"But you know what I mean," he added. "It seems to me that you have a vendetta against the New Empire...and judging by your face when you mentioned Leto, should I conclude that your own base of operations was there?"

Stavan lifted his chin at that. "It's _still _there. I am _still _the commander."

Kaine bobbed an eyebrow at him. "And you want to make sure that it stays that way."

Colour rose in Stavan's cheeks, and he poked at his salad with his fork. He had already been removed from command at Kejim; getting shunted off of Leto would mean the death of his career. He would be washed up before he even hit thirty-five. "What do _you _have against the New Empire?"

The major sat back, resting his elbow on the back of his chair as he thought about it. "I don't think that it will reach its goal," he said at last. "In fact, I think it's doing the opposite."

"What is its goal."

"To revive the Empire."

"Why would it be hiding itself, then?"

"They're anti-Palpatine and so on. They say that he's Sith scum."

Stavan stopped toying with his meal. "They're open about it?" Kaine looked at him. "My loyalty to the Empire is absolute," the commander replied, before the question could be asked, "but I am aware that there have been...rumblings since Endor. Some laws have grown laxer. If they're so opposed to the late Emperor Palpatine, why have they not simply merged with the New Republic?"

"The captain would never hear of it. They don't like rebels, either."

"What are the departures from ordinary imperial law?"

"Hmm...equal rights for all species," Kaine said. "Abolishment of slavery within imperial borders, a tightening of law regarding the conventions of war...limitations for the use of planetary bombardment and chemical and biological warfare..." He listed the changes on his fingers, and when he had run out of fingers he added, "Something more democratic, all in all."

The changes sounded more beneficial to Stavan, who said, "I take it that you're in favour of things as they are, then."

"Actually...no. I do think those changes could do some good." Kaine straightened in his seat, reaching for his glass. "Would you disagree, Commander Stavan?"

"My personal beliefs are irrelevant," the younger man informed him coolly. "You said that the New Empire was going in the opposite way of its stated goal. Explain."

One corner of the major's mouth lifted. "Right back to interrogation," he said to himself. Then: "The Battle of Endor not only killed the emperor, but also everyone on the second Death Star, the _Executor, _and the rest of Darth Vader's personal squadron, all of whom were among our best." He drew a line across his throat. "Now we're wasting away to the Outer Rim, and more territories are being lost all the time. You know, of course-the same thing is happening to the Reborn faction on a smaller scale. You've not Reborn left to fill a bedroom, have you?"

His mouth a thin line, Stavan waved at him impatiently. _Just go on._

"The New Empire has been trying to collect talented personnel from across the galaxy; officers, mechanics, Stormtroopers-anyone that's willing to join them gets spirited away. I think you understand what kind of drain this is putting on the Empire at large."

"I do understand."

"And _nothing real has been done with them._ They would be better put to use on the frontline, fighting against the Republic." The older man leaned forward. "These are elite forces, Stavan. If Rathbone would only use them properly, we could have the whole galaxy at our feet."

Stavan leaned forward as well. "How many are there?"

Kaine's lips moved silently as he tallied up what he knew. "For the core, about forty thousand combat-ready troops, including officers. Ten thousand support staff-medical corps, engineers, and so on. Two Jedi. Two fleets of Star Destroyers."

Stavan considered. "That's not much."

"I suspect that it's only a small part of it. I don't know how many allies we have."

"Your captain sounds very secretive." Kaine had been rubbing on him all night; Stavan gave in to temptation and asked, "So how is it that a _captain _came to rule the faction?"

It worked. The major's expression grew sour. "By popular vote, perhaps," he said sarcastically. They ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Kaine added, "When I return to the Empire proper, I am going to be glad to see a proper chain of command again."

"Oh, yes?"

Kaine stared into the depths of his wine glass, his face hardening. "I am sick to death of taking orders from men who should be my subordinates," he said. "And I want _out _of that damned faction."

_That's where you can help __**me**_, the commander thought. _You can tell me everything._

Finally beginning to acquire an appetite, Stavan began to eat again and found the meal delicious. At the next table over, the well-dressed gentlemen were plowing through their meals with enthusiasm; they weren't skimping on anything, as though dining at a place like this were a special occasion.

On the other side of the room, Mister Newspaper still hadn't moved. "With those troops back in the Empire, we can expand our territories again," Kaine said after a while. "Together, you and I, Stavan...we could accomplish a lot."

"Here, let me," he added, seeing Stavan's intention to refill his own glass. He topped up the commander, and then himself. He raised his glass. "How about a toast...to the Empire, of course?"

They clinked glasses.

"To the Empire," Stavan echoed. A heady feeling passed over him briefly as he drained the glass. It was time to quit the wine, he decided. He had no intention of returning to the ship half tanked. At the next table, the two men were ordering opulent desserts.

The major skewered the last piece of nerf on his plate. He considered the tidbit of meat on the end of his fork, turning it a little as he thought. "Once we get it all back," he said, "I'd like a new position. Something administrative-a governor, perhaps."

"That could be arranged," said his companion, folding his hands.

Kaine smiled a little and put the meat into his mouth, chewing slowly to savour the taste. Then he picked up his wine glass. "Let's talk about...Naboo," he said.

* * *

The rest of the evening passed well. The two officers chatted over coffee, while the room filled and emptied slightly like a living tide of beings and the sun set on the cityscape outside. At last Kaine bid Stavan good night, rising from his chair. He plucked the bill from its pocketbook before the younger man could say anything about it, and as the major looked over it Stavan said, "I could get that."

"You can pay for the _second _date," Kaine said. The wine had loosened him up. "But, well, you could instruct your bodyguard to be a bit less obvious next time." He glanced at Mister Newspaper, who was folding up the paper, and then back to Stavan. He winked.

"What...?" Stavan looked to the muscular man. "That's an actor," he pointed out.

Kaine looked back to the man, who had been approached by a young Twi'lek and was now busy signing an autograph. It occurred to him, now that he could see the man's face, that he had seen it in a few low-budget holos. "So it is," he said thoughtfully, then laughed. "All right! Good night, Stavan."

After the major had left, the two well-dressed gentlemen turned to face Stavan. "Your orders, Commander?" one of the undercover Stormtroopers asked.

"The first order of the night is to pay for your meals," Stavan said.

"Far be it from us to leave without paying, sir; but I meant about Major Kaine. With all due respect, I wouldn't trust him any farther than I could throw him."

"Neither would I."

They all rose, the shorter of the troopers still daubing at his mouth with a napkin. "And I don't think I would trust him even _that _much," the first trooper added, as his partner tossed the cloth back onto the table.

"Do you think he ought to be rewarded as a traitor deserves, Marek?" the commander asked.

Coming from another officer it might have been a dangerous question to answer, but these troopers had served under Stavan for a while and knew to take the question at face value. "It might be prudent, sir," Marek told him. "If he'd betray his faction, he'd betray ours, too. Or it could be a trap."

His partner meaningfully brushed a hand over his dinner jacket, under which a blaster pistol was holstered. Both troopers were armed in such a fashion. "I could probably hit him from here if I got a clear shot," he said. Both Stavan and Marek looked at him with upraised eyebrows. "I mean setting for stun," the Stormtrooper added, colouring a bit. "If you wanted to haul him in tonight."

Stavan waved a hand. "No, leave him. He'll be more useful this way, when he's cooperative."

"He was _really _cooperative," Marek said. "...and friendly."

The commander nodded. Kaine had a sort of smarmy friendliness that he found mildly off-putting, but if it would get him all the information that he wanted, he would stroke the major's ego until he got it. "We'll work with him," he said.

* * *

Two figures trudged through the barren wasteland that marked the great plains of Torek, as they had since dawn that morning. The sun had begun to sink lower into the sky and it was a mere hour until sunset; the glow of it bathed the dust of the plain in a red colour that was not unlike drying blood. Nothing healthy grew in that forbidding place, and both men could see lean, catlike predators prowling along the ledges of the shelves, watching them as they passed below.

_Let them watch, _thought Lloth Morne, though he kept his hand near the lightsaber at his hip. _If they are here, the bandra are not._

The Reborn dreaded the thought of another fight with one of the vicious bird-creatures, which had come screaming at them like a demon out of hell not long after their ship had crashed, all sharp beak and push-dagger claws, uncannily fast. It had evaded his lightsaber and would have killed him if it had not been for Quay, who had put an end to it.

"Are you _sure _you can feel it?" he hissed, feeling uncomfortable. He was an olive-skinned, dark-haired youth, the opposite to the tall and fair-haired Quay. His companion gave him a cool look out of the corner of his eye and just kept walking. "I can't feel anything."

"It is here," Jeedan Quay said, his tone brooking no argument. "Look to the Force." He waved a hand at the landscape before them. "We're close now."

The younger Reborn bit his lip and concentrated on the Force. Torek was touched by the dark side. It was like looking for shadow within shadow. He trailed at Quay's elbow, his brow furrowing, and then he suddenly felt it. A shadow darker than the shadows around it. It could not be just a Dark Jedi, he reasoned. It was more than that.

"What if it's hostile?" he asked.

"Then we will kill it," Quay replied. "But whoever it may be, it may be useful to us."

Morne fell silent, and they trudged on.

It was half an hour later that they came upon a campsite located at the foot of a rock shelf. A small ship was docked nearby, a Corellian light freighter, but it was not the ship that caught the attention of the two Reborn...it was the dead bandra lying next to it, one wing torn completely off. Its head was twisted around the wrong way, and one eye glared blankly skyward. There were no lightsaber burns on the body. It had been killed simply through brute force.

Their eyes drifted from the carcass to the being sitting on a bench beside it with his fingers laced beneath his chin, watching them over the small fire that crackled in a pit before him. The bandra's wing hung on a spit over the flames.

"Lord Desann?" Quay asked, before he could stop himself. Then he straightened. "No...My mistake. You are not him."

"Desann," said the one they had found, "is dead. Killed by Kyle Katarn of the Jedi."

He was a Chistori, this man, like Desann but not like him at all. This Chistori's skin was green marked with grey, and there was something intrinsically savage in his appearance that Morne could not attribute to any single thing. The teeth that were visible were sharp and strong, as were the nails-claws-tipping his fingers. Both teeth and claws looked fully capable of ripping a man open. He wore a dark cloak, the hood of which was back, and beneath that his build was strong and muscular. His face was sharp-featured and heavily masculine, and although Morne was not certain whether he would be considered ugly or handsome by Chistori standards, to the Reborn's human eyes he was quite frightening.

The two humans exchanged a look, then turned back to the Chistori. "My companion and I crash-landed on this planet and followed your trail in the Force," Quay explained. "We are powerful Dark Jedi of the Reborn faction."

At the words _powerful Dark Jedi _the Chistori straightened up and laughed harshly, showing rows of needle-sharp teeth. Quay frowned. "There are many things to call the Reborn these days," the stranger said, after he had quieted somewhat, "but 'powerful' is no longer one of them. Broken and scattered, yes."

"There are still Reborn left," Morne said.

The Chistori turned his gaze on him. "How many?"

"There's us. And...I've heard rumours of others that escaped...maybe a handful..."

The Dark Jedi rested his head in his hand. "A _handful, _hmm?"

"It's all Katarn's fault!" Quay said hotly. "And Skywalker's. And those Jedi at his academy. And that wretched New Empire, for all we know!"

That seemed to catch the man's attention. "_New _Empire," he said. "That fringe faction that thinks it can reject the Sith and still call itself a part of the Empire?"

"There are rumours of Jedi working for them," Morne said.

The Chistori's eyes narrowed in thought, and he drummed his fingers on his knee. "The Empire should be in the hands of the Sith," he said to himself. Then he smiled. It was a frightening sight. He looked back at the Reborn standing before him, small and frail in their orange robes in comparison to his strong frame, and waved a hand. A metal chest that had been sitting some metres from the fire pit slid into place behind Quay and Morne. They sat down.

The Dark Jedi let his hand fall. "Let's talk business," he said.

The Reborn smiled.

* * *

Nova's feet began to wobble first.

Opting to save her balance, the Jedi planted her other hand on the ground, shifting back into a normal handstand instead of a single-handed one. Across from her Bal was still on one hand and was slowly stacking rocks with the Force, directing their movements with his free hand.

She flipped over onto her feet, and the rocky badlands of Infel flipped right-side up again. Feeling a shift in the Force, Nova went to the edge of the rock shelf on which they were training. There was a figure below, just climbing out of a landspeeder.

Aerin Sutler looked up and waved at her. She waved back. In response the lieutenant waved faster, gesturing for her to come down. He didn't look at all pleased.

"Bal," Nova said, and leapt down.

Sutler looked horrified at the sight of the woman he loved falling a good fifteen metres, but sagged in relief when she landed safely a few seconds later. The Zabrak followed, brushing dirt from his palms as he joined the humans.

"What's happening, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"We've just gotten a transmission..." Sutler shook his head. "No, you have to see it."

"Has something bad happened?" Nova asked, hurrying after him to where the landspeeder hovered. Both Jedi hopped in. They started off.

"Very bad."

* * *

The scene played out before them in holographic miniature, General Telis Kord and a man in a long hooded robe.

"_Rumours add up. The imperials find out about this, and Republic spies find out what the imperials know,_"a translucent Kord said, his image flickering.

"_You know too much, Master Kord. I'm sorry_," the hooded figure replied.

"_You have the advantage of me, young...knight of the Empire. If I'm to be assassinated, I'd like to know the name of the man trying to kill me._"

"_Erril Kaven,_" said the hooded man.

Both Jedi watched the recording in horror, Bal with tightly crossed arms and Nova with one hand over her mouth. Sutler stood behind them, grey-faced. "General Kord was assassinated not long after this was recorded," the lieutenant said.

Nova watched Kaven and Kord exchange blows. "But, but he wanted to be a Jedi," she said softly.

"_I am an _imperial _Jedi,_" the holographic Kaven said, in response to the Jedi Master's comment.

"But he _defected!_" Nova cried. "He said he wanted to study at the academy! Did he just lie to us the whole time!"

Bal put a hand on her shoulder, and they watched the rest of the recording silently. Kaven and Kord exchanged more words, about a New Empire and a Lee Rathbone, then they clashed again. The Jedi watched as Kaven attempted to Force-choke the general, only to be thrown off. A moment later the recording winked out as the imperial assassin let out an explosion in the Force, presumably breaking the security camera.

"I trusted him," the female Jedi said. "But you didn't, the both of you. And you were right." She bowed her head. "I...I can't believe that...I..."

"Wait," Bal said. "Nova. Maybe he hadn't planned it this way."

Sutler put his hand on Nova's free shoulder, and the both of them looked up at the Zabrak. "What?" the young woman asked.

Bal took a breath. "When he was with us, he was sincere. I'm sure of it. He wasn't an imperial agent."

"What makes you so sure?" Sutler asked.

"Look, whenever Erril tried to hide his emotions, he wasn't very good at it. Nova, you said he was turned upside-down from defecting, that he wasn't happy with it, right?" She nodded. "Well, I didn't catch any duplicity then, so I think he was being honest enough. Then we went to Yavin IV and he met Master Skywalker and then wanted to leave right away, like he couldn't stand being in the same building as him."

"You think seeing Master Skywalker drove him back to the Empire?" Nova asked.

Bal shrugged. "I don't know. He wouldn't talk about it with me. _Then _he got captured by the imperials on Ioun, and that didn't strike me as being one of his plans, and when he came back, he was a lot calmer, right?"

Nova paused. "_That's _when he met with the New Empire faction," she said, understanding now what the Zabrak was about. "He became a double agent."

"Sonalia," Sutler suddenly said. They looked at him. "They were letting the evacuation ships go. Maybe they didn't want to risk killing their agent."

The young woman put her face in her hands. "Captain Rathbone," she said. "The leader of this New Empire. Kord said he was a skilled liar, a manipulator with his own agenda. And Erril _trusts _him."

"I don't think that Erril has truly gone to the dark side," Bal told them. "But I think that he's being manipulated."

The more Nova thought about that, the more correct her partner seemed. If Kaven had been as emotionally vulnerable as he had seemed at the time that he had been captured by the New Empire, it would be no great task at all for this Lee Rathbone to pull all the right levers and trick him into being his pawn. "We need to find him," she said, "and get him away from that man."

"But where would you start looking?" Sutler asked. "The New Empire doesn't exist in known space."

"We must look to the Force," Nova said. "If there are Jedi working for them, there's got to be a way of locating them."

"Wh-it's not as if the Force can up and give you the hyperspace coordinates, can it?" They both looked at him, and Sutler ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, but I just can't see how you could ever find the New Empire like that. Maybe a planet, maybe a system, but in the whole _galaxy? _It's...it's just too big."

Now Nova reached up and put a hand on his arm. "The Force is all-binding, Aerin," she said. "Size doesn't matter."

"We'll find him," Bal said.

* * *

Jan leaned closer to the window, looking out over the snowfields to where a trio of white-furred creatures trotted along the edge of the woods, just visible before the pine trees. "Foxes," he said. "I thought they were wolves at first."

"Much too small," said Major Stark, who was leaning against a couch in the lounge, his arms crossed. He was a tall man with grey hair and steel-grey eyes. "Back on my native Mobius," he added as the door opened, admitting Erril Kaven and Captain Rathbone, "there are stories of huge talking wolves."

Kaven went to stand by his younger brother, lifting a hand over his eyes to peer over the bright snow. The major turned his head to look at the captain. "Every Mobian knows them. Right, Captain?"

The older man nodded. "The great wolves of Mobius," he said.

Kaven looked over his shoulder at the two men, seeing now that the captain's hair wasn't prematurely grey as he had originally supposed, but naturally so. It was too uniform in colour to have gone that way. Since joining with the New Empire he had met some people from Mobius with the same trait, and had concluded that it was just one of Mobius' genetic traits.

"Years ago there were stories that a young man was running about with them," Stark remarked. "He kept away from people. A regular wild boy."

"That's straight out of an adventure book, that one," Kaven said. "When was that?"

"It was just after the Clone Wars ended. I was a teenager at the time-about seventeen or so." The major nodded toward Captain Rathbone. "You've heard the stories, haven't you? That was by Johanneston."

"Yes," the captain answered. "But I might consider those tales tall ones. A wild boy, running with the great wolves, who themselves are nearly myths? As Erril said...it's surely out of some work of fiction." He paused. "Unless you saw him. Did you see him?"

Major Stark shook his head.

"Ah," the captain said, waving a hand. "_Myth._ Now, if you'll excuse me...Jan, I have a task for you, so come along." He turned and left, walking briskly. Jan followed after him, trotting to keep up, knowing that he was to start with the flight simulator that afternoon. He glanced over his shoulder, and his older brother touched his forelock in a fake salute.

"Good luck, little brother," the pilot said.

"Was that true?" he asked the major, after the door had shut.

"That I never saw that young man? Yes, that's true," Stark told him, taking a seat on the couch and crossing his legs. "But I know someone who did."

"So it's not just stories."

"No."

"Where did your friend see the guy?"

"At a stream he had come to during a hiking trip," the officer said, after a moment's thought. "He came out of the trees and they were there, the young man and this gigantic white wolf...two metres at the shoulder, he told me. Enormous. The wolf was drinking. Then they both looked at him. He said the boy must have been about eighteen or nineteen years old. It was the closest anyone had ever been to him. My friend called to him, asked him who he was."

"Did he tell him?"

"No. 'Go away!' was his only reply, apparently. Then he jumped up onto the wolf's back and they ran off into the woods again."

"Weird," Kaven said.

"There's a lot of strange things in the galaxy," Stark said. "But that boy was probably just another orphan. The Clone Wars left a lot of them behind. The bombing of Johanneston alone..." He sat back, drumming his fingers on the armrest. "The war hit Mobius hard. It was during a fimbulwinter, too, to make matters worse."

"What's a fimbulwinter?"

"A winter that lasts three years."

Kaven recalled something that Major Kaine had told him. "No wonder you people say 'Winter's coming.'"

"That's true," said the major. "But that's only part of the saying. The second part is, 'and after winter comes spring' or some variant of it. That's for the optimists."

"So what are you?" the pilot asked.

Major Stark raised an eyebrow. "A realist," he said.

* * *

"Am I to start on the simulator early, Captain?" Jan asked, as he and Captain Rathbone walked down the corridor.

"No, that is not the task I meant," the older man said. He glanced around. No one was within earshot. "I have been keeping tabs on your progress, and you've been doing well. You've just begun to learn Form III of the lightsaber, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And your Force techniques, they are passable?"

"Yes, s-are you giving me a mission?" Jan looked up at the captain, not feeling at all ready for this.

The captain waved his hand. "No. But Erril has mentioned that you intend to go to Ilum for your lightsaber crystal." Jan nodded. "I am going to send you there under escort."

"With all due respect, sir, I'm not ready to construct a lightsaber," the young man said. "Erril said that he would teach me once I finished learning the basic forms. I, I don't think I'll be ready for a couple of months, if that short a time."

"Yes, I know. But Ilum may not be a safe place for neo-imperials within a few months. At this time it remains open to all personnel."

Jan saw what the captain meant. "You're going to send me to get the crystal while it's still safe to be there," he said. His commander nodded. "When am I leaving...and what's my escort?"

"You will leave tomorrow at 0900 hours. Your escort will be a squad of Stormtroopers. They will be with you at all times. Your safety is priority-take your lightsaber, but be in uniform otherwise and don't spend more time on Ilum than is strictly necessary." Captain Rathbone's mouth lifted at one corner in an expression that was not really a smile. "Should you be injured or worse, I am quite certain that your brother would murder me."

"Understood, sir."

* * *

The shuttle touched down in the closest available place to the crystal caves. Jan looked out the viewport at the landscape, all snow and ice and wind, and sighed. After all his time on Tel Sharis, he wasn't yet acclimatised to colder places, and Ilum was going to do him in if he went out there in just his greatcoat. The Stormtroopers would be fine, they were all in their cold-weather gear, but Jan would be lucky to not be a human icicle by the time they made it to the caves thirty kilometres away.

At least they had a landspeeder. Jan turned and went back into the passengers' area, taking up the long cloak he had thought to bring along, and put it on. The wind's howl was loud in the cabin, and it grew louder as one of the troopers lowered the ramp and disembarked to get the speeder ready.

The man came back after a short time. "All ready, sir," he said.

"The four of you, come with me," Jan ordered. There wasn't room for all of them in the speeder. Five was enough. "The rest of you, stay here with the pilots. We'll be in contact."

In all of his time with the imperial military Jan had never really envied the Stormtroopers, who were the first to advance, the last to retreat, and the ones who had to obey even the most ghastly of orders, but as the cold wind cut through his coat and robe, freezing the skin beneath, he found that he did now. The troopers' cold-weather gear was considerably warmer than anything he was wearing, and their helmets kept the wind off their faces.

They got out of the landspeeder and ran for the cover of the crystal caves, a towering monastery of rock and ice. Jan lowered his hood once they were out of the wind, reaching up with a gloved hand to brush the snow out of his hair. He drew a glow-rod from an inner pocket and tossed it at their feet. Suddenly the whole place was lit up, the light reflected from a thousand sources all around them.

"Whoa," said a Stormtrooper. The front chamber was a great cavern with tunnels going off in all directions. Patches of crystals grew everywhere, blue and green, great and small, twinkling in the light. There was a cluster at Jan's elbow that was nearly half as tall as he was. The man turned to the knight. "How are you going to find one in all of this, sir? We might be here for days."

Jan shook his head. He felt the Force here, a quiet impulse telling him to go deeper into the caverns. "The Force will tell."

"What kind of crystal are we looking for?" another trooper asked. He was half bent over, looking at a tiny patch of blue-green crystals about the size of a man's thumbnail.

Jan smiled ruefully. "I'll be doing the looking," he said. He went to a crystal cluster, leaning over to look closely at it. They were blue, but milky white at the base, and all of them were cracked or broken. Useless.

"I heard the Emperor had all the good Ilumite crystals smashed," one of the men remarked to another, as the group began to make its way toward the back of the cavern, Jan probing in the Force to figure out which way to go. "Maybe there's a few secret areas in here where there's some left."

"I hope so," the officer murmured. He looked hard at a couple of tunnels. "This way."

The emanations of the Force grew stronger as they went deeper into the caverns. It was nearly two hours of wandering later that they discovered the rift in the wall at the end of a dead end, a furtive little black slit in the wall that would be just large enough for a smallish man to get through. Feeling out into the Force, Jan found that there were strong crystals in there. He turned and took a glow-rod from one of the troopers, and tossed it inside. The room lit, just as the front cavern had.

"I'm going in," he said. He looked at his troopers. "Clatter, I think you might fit. Davison...it might be tight. You two..." He shook his head at the two burlier soldiers. "...probably not. Keep a watch out here."

"Yes, sir."

Jan stepped into the rift, turning himself sideways and wriggling through with some trouble. Clatter followed, his armour clacking noisily against the stone. Davison regarded the crevice, then sucked in and turned himself sideways and shimmied through like the others, nearly stumbling as he popped out.

They continued on.

* * *

Beyond the rift there was a series of caverns linked by curving tunnels. Palpatine's destructive orders had not gotten this far, and all of the crystals beyond the rift had been safe from imperial hands. The crevice obviously post-dated the emperor's orders, and the caverns had been left alone since the day the crystals had been smashed.

Leaving Clatter and Davison standing fascinated by a cluster of blue crystals taller than they were, Jan went into the next cavern. It was the last of the line, and there was no other way in than the way by which he had come. It was a large room, already lit by a lantern resting on a shelf of rock on the chamber's far left side. Jan regarded that lantern for a moment, then thought: _it's here._

Leaving the lantern alone, following the emanations of the Force, he went to a patch of crystals on the cavern's far side and knelt. There was a strong one here. He closed his eyes and reached out, letting the Force guide him to the best one. His hand hovered over the patch and lowered gradually. His fingers touched the smooth face of the mineral. He opened his eyes.

It was a green crystal about four centimetres long, bottle-green and very clear. He drew the small knife he had brought for the task and began to gingerly lever the thing from its place. At last it popped out and landed in his palm. _This is the one, _he thought. _It's perfect._

Suddenly a hand fell on his shoulder, and he jumped. "What's this? A Jedi caught off his guard?" a voice asked lightly.

It was a woman's voice. There _were _no female Stormtroopers in Jan's group.

He spun around and saw a woman in her late twenties, with blonde hair bound in a topknot and spare locks that framed her face. She was smiling a little. Jan's eyes moved down to the lightsaber at her hip.

"Are you a padawan, then?" she asked.

"Yes," Jan said. _A Jedi. Was she in here when I came? _he wondered. _I was distracted, and then...oh _no_, the Stormtroopers. _But he felt Clatter and Davison's presences, still alive and well. _Just...stay where you are, you two._

"I've never seen you at the academy. But you seem familiar," the woman continued. "Have we met?"

"No, I don't think so," the young officer replied. He took a step back, putting some more distance between them. "I would remember it if we had."

The Jedi regarded him curiously, then said, "What about...on...Telan IV? I could swear that I've felt your presence before."

Jan's heart began to beat a little faster. There _had _been a Jedi fighting on Telan, before the imperials had been pushed into a retreat...

"My name is Hera," the Jedi added. "What's yours?"

"Uh, Jan. Look, I should probably go-imperial territory and all that-come see me at the academy sometime-" He began to back away. If she found out that he was an imperial, things were going to get interesting.

"I'm sure Master Finn is delighted to have a new padawan in his academy," she said.

"Yes, he is." The young man paused, just before the mouth of the corridor. He nodded to her. "Well, goodb-"

"_Hold it,_" she said sharply, all lightness gone from her voice now. Suddenly her lightsaber was in her hand, and it flashed out, glowing an electric blue. Jan froze. "You're not really a Jedi; who are you?"

"I _am _a Jedi, a padawan Jedi," he said. "I just joined the academy..."

"No. Then you would know who the head of the academy is." Her mouth was a straight line. "Master _Luke Skywalker._" She stared at him for a moment, then raised a hand. Jan felt the front of his robe come undone, revealing the greatcoat he wore underneath it. "You're an imperial officer," she said, softly. "But you use the Force. A Dark Jedi?"

"Do you _feel _the dark side in me?" Jan asked.

"But you're not Republic, otherwise you would not have lied to me," she mused. "What _are _you, Jan, if that is your real name?"

"An imperial knight," the young man said.

"There are no imperial Jedi," Hera replied. She stared hard at him, then laughed. "Well! You're having me on. So what are you?"

"I told you."

There was the sound of footsteps behind him, and Clatter and Davison appeared. "Sir, we heard voices, what's-oh."

The Stormtroopers and the Jedi regarded each other for a moment, and then Clatter said softly, "Aw, crap."

Hera's face changed. It was as if a switch had been flicked, and there was nothing very pleasant about her anymore. "_There are no imperial Jedi,_" she growled. "Only Dark Jedi who serve the Empire."

She began to raise the lightsaber, and Jan hissed, "_Get going, both of you, run!_"

Then: "_Duck!_"

Both the officer and the Stormtroopers ducked as they ran for it, and the lightsaber flashed over their heads, spinning through the air like a saw blade, striking the wall behind them in a shower of sparks. Hera cursed.

The trio ran. Clatter had a reputation for being the fastest sprinter in the 777th, a reputation which he proved as they fled down the corridors and through the caverns. Davison stayed behind Jan, providing cover fire at enough of a distance to keep the Jedi busy while not getting hit with his own ricochets.

"The rift!" Clatter called from up ahead, and Jan realized with a sinking feeling that unless they were fast getting through, they were going to be sitting ducks. "You guys, get away from the hole!"

There was the sound of an E-11 firing, and Jan and Davison turned the corner to find that Clatter had blasted away at the edges of the rift, widening it a little. The knight ducked through, with Davison behind him, and they rejoined the others.

"Woke something nasty up?" a trooper inquired at his elbow, as they sprinted through the caverns.

"Yeah, a Jedi." They reached the front room, and Jan glanced over his shoulder to see Hera emerge from the passage, not far behind them. The woman was supernaturally fast, obviously able to use the Force to speed herself along. Leaping behind the cover of a cluster of large crystals, the Jedi leaned out and cocked her arm back. "Look out!" Jan shouted.

The lightsaber came hurtling towards them, faster than they could duck, and Jan raised his hands. The spinning blade stopped a couple of centimetres in front of his palms. Hera's eyes widened. With a flick of the Force he sent it careening off in another direction, and it hit the wall with a sound like a lightning bolt.

All five of them propelled by adrenaline now, the knight and Stormtroopers ran out into the blinding snow and wind of Ilum, leapt into the landspeeder, and started off.

Jan opened his comlink. "Get the shuttle ready for takeoff," he said. "We're on our way back, and we're leaving right away."

* * *

The Force had been strong with that one, Hera thought, picking up her lightsaber handle. He had managed to stop the thing in mid-throw and then slam it against the wall hard enough to put a deep crack through the hilt, as well as knock off some of the more decorative features she had put on it.

She pressed the ignition. There was a faint flicker at the end, but nothing more. Broken, then. The Jedi moved to take it apart and check the crystal she had only just put in that day, and the handle came apart all too easily. The crystal fell out of its chamber and fell to the ground, bouncing once or twice on the stone before rolling to a stop. There was a crack running through the whole thing, nearly bisecting it. She picked it up and held it to her eye. Useless now. She flicked it aside.

An imperial knight? There _were _no imperial knights, and there never could be. The Empire was inherently dark-sided, and even _if _a Jedi were crazy enough to join the very regime responsible for the mass murder of his fellow knights, the sheer domineering aggression of the Empire would quickly corrupt him to the dark side, and then it was back to square one.

And yet...Hera had heard rumours to the effect of some part of the Empire employing Jedi. Not the Reborn, but some ghostly fringe faction.

She looked to the cave mouth, where all that could be seen was the driving wind and snow. Perhaps that officer had been part of that ghost faction; it would explain why he had insisted that he was a Jedi, despite his affiliations.

Righteous consternation rose in her. That young man needed to understand that if he continued to serve the Empire, his light would grow dark and he would fall as a Jedi. She did not enjoy the thought, but if he would not see reason, more...drastic measures might have to be taken. The other 'imperial knights' would have to be seen to as well. She would give them all a choice, naturally; ultimately they would have to be separated from the Empire, but how that happened would be up to each of them.

She would have to find them. It was all for the best for the Jedi order.

* * *

_Lee Rathbone, _Stavan read, from the file open before him on the computer. Despite the incident involving Kees and the Jedi he had been allowed to continue his work as the commander of the base on Leto, and he was especially glad for that now. The rank allowed him to access military personnel files with something resembling freedom, and he had a list of names to check. Erril Kaven, Lee Rathbone, Aedin Demarco...everyone Kaine had named.

There was a picture there, of a man about thirty-five years old. A dated picture, obviously. Grey hair, despite his youth. Dark eyes. A thin, serious face. _Lee Rathbone, _he thought again, scanning the file. _Born on Mobius, hometown Johanneston, attended the academy on Corulag when he was about twenty-two, no official military record prior to that...high grades in the academy, a promising officer, promoted to captain after a highly successful campaign...went absent without leave shortly after the Battle of Endor..._

_There's information missing, _he thought, frowning. _Someone's tampered with the file. _There was no civilian record, no personal history, no solid information on the man himself. Stavan stared at the man, at the picture taken eleven years ago, and thought: _All right. There's more than one way to find out about you. _Surely someone existed who remembered serving with or under Rathbone, or a superior officer of his. Someone who could create and rule something like the New Empire was surely not someone to be easily forgotten. Somewhere in the galaxy, someone knew him. And Stavan was going to find that someone.

He set the captain's file aside and looked for the next; Aedin Demarco. His searching turned up nothing at all. There simply was no file in the archives he was searching. Putting his chin in his hand, the commander thought: _The ISB probably has one, but there's no way that I can get to it. _Like Rathbone, though, there had to be someone that knew of Demarco.

Next he looked for Erril Kaven's file. This was met with far more success; there was a complete file on the young pilot; at least, up until the Battle of Kuan, at which point he apparently defected to the New Republic.

Knowing the truth, Stavan smiled a little, and kept reading.

* * *

A hand fell on his shoulder.

Suddenly snapping awake, the commander reared up in disorientation, pushing away from the desk at which he had fallen asleep. The man who had awakened him took a step back, eyebrows raised.

Stavan realized where he was. "Ugh, what're you doing in my office?" he demanded, straightening his glasses and blinking the world back into focus. He noticed the level of light coming in the window on the far side of the room. "An' what _time _is it?"

"It's eleven in the morning, sir," the man said. It was a lieutenant, with a hawk nose and fair hair. "I knocked, but you were asleep..."

"I could have been out," Stavan replied owlishly, raking his hair back with one hand. He'd fallen asleep at the computer, and there was a line on his cheek where it had pressed against the edge of the keyboard.

"I heard you, ah, snoring, Commander." The man-Lieutenant Gandt-glanced at the computer screen, on which Lee Rathbone's file stood for all the world to see. Stavan reached out and closed it. Gandt's eyes moved back to him.

"Lieutenant," Stavan said, not really liking the look that surfaced briefly in his aide's eyes, "I'll let it go this time, but next time you wish to see me and I'm not in a state to admit you, use the comlink or pound on the door, I don't bloody care which, but you are not to enter my office without permission, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

The commander sat back. "Now, then-have my shuttle prepared to leave by this afternoon; I will be making a short trip, and I expect to be back in a few days."

"A trip, sir?"

"If any problems should arise while I'm gone, Major von Hammerstein will be acting as my second in command," Stavan continued.

There it was again; that look in Gandt's eyes. It was something like suspicion. "Shall I arrange an escort for you, Commander?"

"I'll arrange myself an escort," the commander replied. He would take Marek and Omar with him; they had been there during his meeting with Kaine, and they could be there when he met with Colonel Havelock. He trusted them more than he trusted any of his officers.

Gandt bowed shortly. "Understood, sir. Will that be all?"

"Yes. Dismissed, Lieutenant."

* * *

The combat droid swung low, aiming for its target's legs.

Demarco brought his sword down in a low block, and there was a harsh ring of metal as their blades connected. The droid kept up its assault, and the clash of dulled practice swords continued. The captain's moves were primarily defensive, and he did not once attack throughout the whole session. His lips were pressed together in concentration as the miniature war of attrition continued, the weapon held in both hands.

At last the droid's ten-minute timer wound down, and it stopped its attack. "_Well done, sir,_" it said, bowing shortly. "_Results: Challenge level four; Successful attacks: 0; Successful Parries: 211 out of 255 total strikes. Do you wish to continue?_"

"No," Demarco said. He leaned on the practice sword to catch his breath. He was soaked through with sweat, and his shirt clung to his body. Beads of moisture stood out on his skin, and he reached up to wipe his forehead. "That's enough for today."

The droid nodded. The officer watched it cross the smaller gym room, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt to loosen it as well as fan some air over his skin. He felt bruised all over and his arms felt like noodles, but he had finally managed to last a full ten minutes. The combat droid went to its usual place in the corner and went dormant there, the lights of its eyes growing dim. It was of a similar model to the sabre droids in the knights' training hall, but instead of lightsabers it was programmed for melee weapons such as swords and quarterstaves.

Demarco hung the dull sword on a hook on the wall with the others, then put his hand to his neck and stretched. There was a warm ache in his muscles at the movement.

"You did pretty well for yourself," a man's voice said.

The captain turned. Erril Kaven was standing beside the door to the gym proper, in which personnel were going through their usual routines. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He wasn't smiling.

Demarco just nodded, still a bit out of breath. "I didn't know you did any swordplay," Kaven continued, coming away from the wall now. "That looked like that one style from Dokuro...'kendo,' I think it's called?"

"Yes," said the captain. "Captain Rathbone wanted me to learn something in case I needed to...defend myself in the future."

"I'll bet," the pilot said. He rubbed the back of his neck distractedly. "Demarco, does the captain...uh..." He hesitated. "Does he...like me?"

Demarco raised an eyebrow at that. "What?"

Kaven coloured a bit. "You know what, never mind," he said, waving a hand dismissively. He turned to go, but Demarco said, "Erril."

The Jedi halted. "Why would you ask that?" Demarco asked. "Did something happen?"

"Uh, no. It's just..." Kaven glanced uncomfortably at the door. "...he's kind of cold, and I never see him much when he's not giving me some assignment, and he doesn't really come talk to me otherwise...so I was wondering if, um..." There was a long silence, and his cheeks grew redder. "Don't think this is some bloody 'Hey sailor' business, because it's not," the pilot said defensively, before Demarco could comment. "I just want to be in his good books, and I don't know if I am or not, but you would know because you're the other captain and I was just wondering so if you could tell me please would you-um."

"Erril, the captain is just busy." Demarco smiled ruefully. "He does like you, believe me, he does. But he's a stoic sort, not so open." He regarded the embarrassed knight with some sympathy, and added, "You're still new here, and it would look bad if he were to play favourites with you so quickly."

"You're right," Kaven said, but he didn't look entirely convinced. He backed away toward the door. "See you, Demarco. Later." He turned and nearly fled.

Demarco stood for a while with one hand on his hip and the other on his chin, looking after him. Kaven hadn't been quite himself since the Shanast mission two weeks before; he had seemed quiet and withdrawn, relatively speaking, and he had been going for a lot of solitary walks out into the snowy forest. Captain Rathbone hadn't been in the best of moods, either; he hadn't actually grown angry, but Demarco had served with him for several years and he could see the tension in his commander. There were more rumours of the New Empire in the galaxy now, but he knew somehow that it was not work-related stress. No, it was something else.

An image rose unbidden into his mind, of the dream he had had a few nights before. In it he had been confronted by Kaven, whose lightsaber had been drawn and ignited. The Jedi had been circling him, saying, "_I know what's in that box, Aedin-the one in the _Ghost._ It was _made _for me, wasn't it?_" The burning gold light nearly at his throat. The scent of ozone. Kaven's lips at his ear. "_You've planned to use it all along. So use it. _Finish _me._"

A cold feeling prickled over Demarco's skin, replacing the salty sensation of dried sweat. Kaven didn't know what his orders were; for the pilot's sake, Demarco hoped that he never found out.

* * *

"Do you notice something off?" Stavan asked as he, Marek, and Omar walked down the street. He came to a halt and turned around, looking first at his Stormtroopers and then glancing at the town around them. It was springtime on Mobius, and flowers were blooming despite the lingering chill of winter in the air. Ferriston was a nice-looking little town, with much more greenery than the Corulag-born Stavan was used to, and the style of architecture was pleasantly old-fashioned, but there was something strange about the place. It had been nibbling at him ever since they had landed a couple of hours earlier.

The troopers looked around. "Some buildings are newer and different types than others?" Marek suggested. "Those ones must have come after the Clone Wars."

"The people are..." Omar stopped to think about how to put it. He had spent half his life on Coruscant, a place where the standard of _weird-looking _was significantly higher than any other place in the galaxy, where some fashion didn't even look _legal, _much less comfortable, and where 'melting pot' didn't even begin to describe the populace. The Mobians were much tamer, and the people they had seen were made up largely of humans, with the rest being mostly Arkanians or Arkanian offshoots, with a few Chiss among them. The weirdest trait he saw was a tendency among the humans to go grey early-there was even a little girl walking by with grey hair, for heaven's sake... "...normal?" Thanks to his helmet, his nonplussed expression was lost on the commander, and so he just shrugged. "Not so...punky-dressed-funny? Trashy?"

"I really don't think that's it," Stavan said.

"Peaceful?"

"Not so many landspeeders and speeder bikes?"

Stavan considered. That last one sounded close, but...

Suddenly Omar snapped his fingers. "No droids!"

The other two men looked around. There was not a droid in sight. "That's it," the officer said. They had walked through half of the town, and they had not seen a single droid. Oh, there was machinery, certainly, but nothing humanoid or truly robotic, and the alien feeling that Stavan had gotten clarified itself now. Droids were so common everywhere else that he had simply assumed that they were elsewhere, but a part of him had noticed the consistent lack.

They started walking again. _This place is a part of the Empire, _Stavan thought. _But I wonder why they would not use droids like the rest of it._

* * *

There was a knock at the door. When the maid opened it, she was mildly surprised to see a youngish, bespectacled imperial officer and a couple of Stormtroopers standing outside. That didn't worry her; given who her employer was, members of the imperial military weren't uncommon, and in any case this officer didn't look like the door-kicking-down, house-burning type.

"Yes?" she asked.

"My name is Commander Stavan," the man said. He looked like a librarian. "I'm here to see Colonel Havelock. Is he available?"

"I'll check," the Arkanian offshoot said, and let them in. "Wait here."

She scurried off, leaving them standing in the foyer of the colonel's mansion. Stavan looked around. The front room was large, with a pair of curved stairways leading up to the second floor, and a set of double-doors lay between them. There were two more sets of such doors on either side of the room. One of the doors to the right was open, partially revealing a study. The foyer was ordinary; a shiny marble floor, some nice wooden furniture, a couple of large plants, a couple of large vases...

Footsteps caught his attention, and he straightened as the maid came back, along with an older man that Stavan recognized as the colonel himself.

"Commander Stavan, is it," Colonel Havelock said, as he descended the stairs and closed with the group. "I don't believe we've met. To what do I owe this visit, then?"

The colonel was somewhere in his early sixties, with a build that must have been a strong one in past years. His hair had been blonde once, but was now a pale grey, and his face was squared off. He was regarding Stavan with a raised eyebrow.

"No, we haven't met," the commander began. "But I was hoping to ask you a few questions, Colonel."

"About?"

"About a man named Lee Rathbone."

Havelock gave him a long cool look, and when Stavan didn't add anything else he said, "I haven't seen Rathbone for over ten years. To my knowledge, nobody's seen him since Endor."

"Could we speak privately, sir?" Stavan asked. Havelock's gaze moved to Marek and Omar, standing at attention behind the younger man. "Just you and I."

"Hmm. I suppose it can't hurt." The retired officer nodded to his maid. "Janeel, would you escort these fellows to the study and give them something to drink? I have the feeling they'll be here a while." Then he nodded to Stavan. "Well, come with me, Commander."

The troopers left with the Arkanian offshoot, while Stavan himself followed the colonel to a parlour, where they sat down in a pair of armchairs before a large fireplace. "So," Havelock said after a long silence, "I guess you already know that I was Rathbone's CO for a time." Stavan nodded. "So what is it you're after?"

"I want to know about the man. His file's been tampered with, and there's a lot of information missing."

Havelock cocked his head. "Are you trying to find him? I understand he's presumed dead."

"He's alive...and yes, I want to find him. I am conducting an investigation on the matter." The commander drummed his fingers on the armrests, thinking about what to ask first. "How long did he serve under you?"

"Six years, all in all."

"What can you tell me about that time?"

"I can tell you that Rathbone was...an exceptional officer. I promoted him to captain after four years of service. He took his job utterly seriously and did whatever task was allotted him to the best of his ability. But that's not unusual-this _is _the Empire." The colonel leaned against the back of the chair, looking toward the ceiling as he thought. "We ran a number of combat missions during that time. His record will tell you that he had no official military experience prior to joining us, but _somebody _sure taught that kid how to fight...he probably served in the Youth Militia during the Clone Wars."

"Youth Militia?"

"Just as it sounds. A group of kids too young to join the actual military, or lie convincingly about their age, formed just after the war started here. The army didn't want them involved, but..." Havelock shrugged. "They tried to keep them out of combat, but let them set explosives and arrange traps for the droid army. My wife was part of it. She said a lot of them were orphans. Rathbone was about the right age for it, so I figured he got some extra combat training from them."

"He'd never mentioned it?" Stavan asked.

"As far as I remember, he never talked about himself." Something occurred to the old man. "Though, he was friends with Alan Makar-the captain of the Destroyer ferrying us around, he's an admiral now-Makar was probably the only one Rathbone ever really thawed around."

"Was this the _Imperial Dawn?_" the commander asked, eagerly.

"It was. You're familiar with him, then?"

Stavan shook his head. "We've never met. So, would you say that Rathbone was hiding something?"

Havelock stared at him for a long time, and then a grin crept across his face. "What are you suggesting? That he was some rebel agent? That he defected to the Rebellion after Endor, perhaps?"

_Not the rebellion you're thinking, _Stavan thought, and instead asked, "Do you have any solid information on his background?"

"No. Look, if you want to know anything about his life _before _joining up with the Empire, you'd do better to ask Admiral Makar. I respected him greatly as a soldier, but I was his commanding officer, not his friend."

Stavan sighed. "I understand. There's been no sign of him since Endor?" The colonel shook his head. "Colonel," the commander said, leaning forward, "have you ever heard of something called the New Empire? It's a fringe faction...some radicals, apparently, wanting to overhaul imperial policy."

"No. But I know that there's something going on. Strange ship sightings-on the edge of known space and so on."

"What is it?"

"Some merchant ship saw an _Executor-_class Star Destroyer out where there oughtn't be one," the colonel replied. "I heard it from a friend in the navy. There's been other sightings of that ship, if it's the same one. It comes and goes-all anyone ever gets is radio silence. It could be just sailor stories."

"Is it that imperial pirate ship-the Destroyer with tentacles?"

"No, _that _one is very real, and she's been the bane of the navy ever since her captain stole her." Havelock shrugged. "At least he targets Republic ships more than imperial ones."

Stavan thought. "Is it possible that her captain is a neo-imperial?"

"Ask the navy what they think. Personally, I think that man and his crew make their _own _faction. Stavan, are you trying to say that Lee Rathbone is a part of this New Empire business you mentioned?"

The commander sat back, wondering how much information he ought to give out. At last he settled for, "Evidence suggests it."

* * *

They left Mobius immediately once they had left the colonel's house, and did not linger at the airfield. No reports were made upon arrival at Leto, and both Marek and Omar made good on their orders to keep what occurred on the trip confidential, as well as its destination.

For the next week, things were peaceful at the base. No incidents of any kind occurred, and life went along at a relaxing pace. Stavan spent the majority of his time in his office, using what free time he had to scrape up information on those alleged neo-imperials, research the Clone Wars as it pertained to Mobius, and try to piece together the missing parts of Rathbone's file. When he was not doing that, he was poring over maps of the galaxy, trying to puzzle out where the New Empire's hidden bases could be. Kantos, Canaida, and Dessim were not in the galactic register, nor were the other planets that Kaine had mentioned, which meant one of two possibilities: first, they could have been deleted from the archives. Second, they could be entirely new planets which the New Empire had discovered for itself. Kaine had told him that they were based in the Unknown Regions, and that had been more or less verified now. The second option, Stavan decided.

Now the commander stood up from where he had been working at his computer, and stretched. Aware that he had spent nearly five hours straight there, he left the office to go get some fresh air, locking the door behind him.

_I've got to talk to Kaine again soon, _he thought, stepping outside. The Stormtroopers on guard duty nodded to him.

It was a beautiful day. Leto was a planet of rolling hills and farmland and small forests, and even though it was backwater Stavan had grown to like it. Kejim had been an isolated ghost-base, while Leto was populated and a much nicer place, to boot.

He looked out across the compound. Bright yellow butterflies of some kind danced in the high grass past the gates. The sky was a clear blue, and fluffy cumulus clouds floated by.

A breeze suddenly stirred his dark hair, and he turned. His heart sank at the sight of the ship now landing at the airfield. An ISB operations ship.

The peace had been too good to last. _Let's hope it's just a routine check, _he thought, but he knew that a visit from the security bureau was never routine. Fully in the clutches of disquiet by now, Stavan went to meet them.

They were emerging from the ship by the time he got there, three men in cream tunics. All officers; two lieutenants and a major. The commander tried to relax. He was a loyal imperial citizen, and they had no 'business' with him. He couldn't let them see him tensing up; they would suspect something. Hiding his discomfort, he went to meet the ISB men.

Folding his hands behind his back, the major looked over at the approaching Stavan. "Commander Erich Stavan?" he inquired.

"Yes," Stavan said.

"You're coming with us." The major gestured, a curl of his fingers that said _come here._

Stavan frowned. "What business does the ISB have with me?" he asked. "I'm not involved in any special projects."

"Your only concern," said the officer, pointing to the ship, "is to get your butt into that ship, _Commander, _not to question."

The security bureau had special power within the Empire. Stavan's rank meant very little to them. With a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, the commander followed the men aboard.

* * *

"The number of reports has been increasing over the past few months," Sutler said, as his superior looked through the dossier. "Since the death of the Jedi Master Telis Kord the existence of the New Empire faction has been confirmed, but otherwise most of what we have is rumours."

"I love rumours," said Colonel Gareth Bancroft, letting the dossier fall shut. He laced his fingers before him and smiled across his desk at the lieutenant and Jedi. He was a pleasant-looking man in his mid-forties, with a crooked smile and brown hair that had just begun to go grey at the temples. He had only come to the New Republic six months before, after being rescued from imperial troops on Nebelland, and since then he had very methodically been getting to know each of those in his chain of command. Sutler had only spoken with him once or twice, but found that he quite liked the man. Never in his life had he ever met someone so charismatic, so energetic, and so interested in the universe as the colonel. He had a boundless energy that was catching.

"That is," Bancroft continued with a little shrug, "a few stories keep life interesting. And then, how to know which is truth and which is fiction? One must sift through them to find the truth-do a little detective work." He leaned forward. "And that's what _you _two are here about, if I am correct."

"Yes, Colonel," Nova said. She was seated in the chair next to Sutler, bundled in her brown robes. She wondered idly where the colonel came from; even though his Basic was excellent, native-speaker level, sometimes when he spoke there were the telltale little pauses and slightly misplaced stresses that marked a person not speaking their native language. His accent was not one known to her; somewhere on the far Outer Rim, surely, if Basic were not the first language of a human.

The older man put his hands under his chin. "I think I see where this is going, but say it anyway."

"We request permission for a special operations assignment," Sutler said. "Specifically, investigation of the New Empire case and those associated with it." He glanced aside, to Nova.

"Since the New Empire has been allegedly using Jedi, or at least Force-sensitives, it is a matter of great concern to the Jedi order," the young woman explained. She smiled a little, ruefully. "They have a man that had recently come to us to be trained."

"That would be Erril Kaven, I presume?" Bancroft asked, sitting back in his chair. She nodded. The colonel tapped a finger against his lips, thoughtfully. "A Force-sensitive. Yes, that would make sense," he said to himself. "A pilot of his standing..."

He closed his eyes and sat silently in thought for a while. Then he looked back to Sutler and Nova. "I will give you your permission," he told them, "on the condition that you are to report directly to me. This is very interesting...I want all the information you manage to gather. If I am not available, the one to report to will be my aide, Lieutenant Kano. He will be informed of your mission, and he is completely trustworthy."

"Understood, Colonel," Sutler said.

"I will also assign you a squad of soldiers, led by a sergeant, of course. This is not a combat mission, so the group will remain small to allow you to move around less conspicuously. Perhaps-eight men. Eight men, plus the sergeant, plus you, Master Trev, and Master Kodar." Bancroft nodded. "Yes, that sounds the most reasonable. Lieutenant Sutler, as an officer you will of course be the leader of this troop, but on the occasions when you are not available or otherwise out of commission, Master Trev will act as your replacement, as she has had some military training from her time in the Rebellion."

"Thank you, sir."

The older man took up the dossier again. "I was going to ask you something," he mused, looking down at it, "but I do believe it's slipped my mind." He tossed it down. "Well, never mind, then. The both of you are dismissed."

The couple rose from their seats, and the colonel rose as well.

"One more thing, though," Bancroft added, stepping around his desk. From where they stood by the door, Sutler and Nova both turned.

The colonel went to Nova and took her hand in both of his. "You are the very first Jedi I have met in my life," he told her. "I must say that it is a pleasure to meet such an esteemed being." He bent his head and kissed her hand, just below the knuckle. "And if I met a hundred more, I doubt any would be half so beautiful," he added, releasing her.

"Oh, Colonel," the Jedi replied, for lack of anything else to say, but her cheeks were red.

Bancroft merely smiled. Then his eyes lit and he snapped his fingers. "Ah, yes! I remember what I was going to ask you."

"Yes, sir?" Sutler asked.

"So there are rumours of Jedi running around the New Empire, correct? However, the only known Jedi with the faction is Erril Kaven-and a possible second could be his brother, provided that he, too, is Force-sensitive, and provided that he has joined. For the sake of caution, we'll say that he has. _But the rumours predate their joining. _You understand what this implies?" Bancroft was serious now, looking from Sutler to Nova and back. "Rumours have to come from somewhere. So the question is: _who is the third Jedi?_"

Nova and Sutler looked at each other.

"That is a question I would like to see answered," Bancroft said, and ushered them out of his office.

* * *

Stavan had been brought in for questioning.

After a long, uncomfortable, and above all _silent _trip in the ISB operations ship, he had been taken to a base on a planet whose name he did not quite catch. Now he sat in a dim small room that was dominated by a long mirror on one side of it that he just _knew _was a two-way, with butterflies in his stomach and a very dark view of his own future.

"You've been researching the New Empire pretty diligently," said Major Septimus Diehl, staring across the narrow table at Stavan, who tried not to squirm. The major was not the same one who had come to fetch him; this one was younger, Stavan's own age, with dark hair that he wore slicked back and a freckle low on his right cheek, almost to the side of his mouth. "There's a list of names in your datapad, even. Criminals to watch out for-" he leaned forward, "-or contacts?"

"I'm not in contact with the New Empire," Stavan said, and cursed inwardly. In his nervousness he had spoken thoughtlessly, forgetting about Kaine momentarily, and had just lied to an ISB officer.

If Diehl suspected a lie, however, he gave no sign. Instead he gave Stavan a positively crocodilian smile. "You seem to know more names than anyone else, though, and you know what we in the ISB call that?" The smile disappeared abruptly. "_Suspicious._"

The commander shook his head. "I'm a loyal imperial," he said.

"So who's your contact in the New Empire, Erich?" The major saw his expression, and the reptilian smile resurfaced briefly. "Come now, you don't think we believe that you pulled those names out of a hat, do you?"

Stavan's face was white. "You...sliced into my files?"

"Your contact, Stavan. _Now._"

"Major Romulus Kaine." The words came out in a rush. His heart was beating fast now.

Diehl's smile widened. "Ah, there it is. You're aware of course that you just lied to me a moment ago when you said you had no contacts, but I'm sure you won't repeat that mistake twice."

Stavan shook his head. His eyes flickered to the mirror. How many were behind it, he didn't know, but he had an inexplicable feeling of dread every time he looked at it, as though something monstrous were lurking behind the glass. But the only thing he could see was his reflection, looking wanly back at him. He was in his shirtsleeves now-it was hot in the little room-and his hair was looking mussed, a by-product of having fiddled with it nervously.

The major glanced down at the folder lying open before him. "Now, you were planning to defect to the New Empire, is that correct?"

"No," Stavan replied. "I'd planned to expose it."

Diehl folded his arms, eyeing him. "And you gave yourself the authorization for this."

"Yes."

"Who are your accomplices?"

Stavan hesitated. With horrible good cheer, Diehl leaned forward. "On my word, I can have TR-671 and TR-1023 shot within the hour," he said. "Name 'em."

Whatever colour had still been in Stavan's face was gone now. "Omar and Marek," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. _He knows everything, _he thought, numbly. _He's playing with me. Trying to catch me in a lie, oh god..._

"You took a little trip last week," Diehl continued. "Your ship's logs say Mobius. What business brought you there?"

"I went to meet Colonel Havelock," the commander told him. "He's, he's an army officer. He retired on Mobius."

"And what was so interesting about him?"

Here it was. "He was Captain Rathbone's commanding officer years ago."

The major nodded. "Ah, yes, Captain Rathbone. He seems to be your favourite among these New Empire criminals. The heart and soul of the faction." He rose from his chair and went to the mirror, gazing at himself in it. "Tell me who he reports to."

"He doesn't report to anyone," Stavan said. "He's the leader of the New Empire."

In the silence that followed this statement, Major Diehl turned and came back to stand before Stavan, staring down at him. Then he put both hands on the table, leaning over the younger man, and hissed, "A _captain _cannot be their leader."

"He is-" Diehl's eyes narrowed. Stavan faltered. "-as, as far as I know," he added, hastily.

The ISB officer leaned closer, until his face was only inches away from Stavan's. "I think, Commander, that you are lying to me again. I think that you are withholding information," he said softly. Then he stared at the younger man so long and so penetratingly that Stavan began to wonder if he could not hear his heart pounding. He had promised himself that he would not show his fright, but Diehl had seen it, and he had seized upon it. He looked back at the officer, a chill in the pit of his stomach, wanting to look away and knowing that doing so would be suicide.

Diehl stared at him a few seconds longer, and then the dark look broke as he smiled again. There was not a whit of kindness in that smile. "But you know, Erich," he said, "I think that you want to do the reasonable thing and cooperate with us. Now...who does this Captain Rathbone report to?"

"No-one," the commander replied, before he could stop himself.

Diehl's expression smoothed over, and the chill in Stavan's stomach abruptly deepened. Then he flinched back as the ISB officer suddenly raised a hand to give him a slap across the face, instinctively raising his arms in self-defence. Before the blow could fall, the door to the room slid open and a man's voice said, "Hold on."

Diehl halted, his hand in midair, and a sullen look drifted over his face as he straightened. He turned to face their visitor. It was an older man of perhaps sixty, with pale grey hair. Another major, by the pips on his breast. One hand was raised.

The man came into the room, letting his hand fall, and the door slid shut behind him. He was well-aged and stately, with arched dark eyebrows and the face of a strict grandfather. He regarded Stavan, sitting pallid and wide-eyed in his seat, then turned to Diehl and said mildly, "There are gentler ways of persuading someone to talk, Septimus."

"He was trying to say that _Captain _Rathbone leads the faction," Diehl replied, stepping back as the old man took a seat across from Stavan.

"Is this true, then?" the stranger asked Stavan, who nodded, white-faced. He looked to Diehl. "I'll take over from here. ...Septimus, you've frightened the man half to death. Go get some tea for us, and I'll question him myself."

The younger major looked affronted. "Would you like some muffins with that, Severus?" he asked sarcastically. The elder merely flapped his hand at him, and he left the room with storm clouds on his brow.

"Now then," the man said, turning to Stavan once the door had closed. "My name is Major Sturm. Are you willing to answer my questions truthfully, without any special encouragement?"

Stavan nodded enthusiastically. Sturm seemed gentler than Diehl, but he wasn't about to start betting on kindness from anyone in the ISB.

"Excellent." The major reached into his tunic and fished out a pair of half-moon spectacles, which he put on as he pulled the file that Diehl had been using closer to himself. He took up a pen. "I'm sure you know we have some idea of your activities within the last few weeks. I want you to start with your meeting with this Romulus Kaine." He glanced up at Stavan. "Any time you're ready, Commander."

Stavan talked. He told Sturm of his meeting with Kaine in the restaurant in Nexus City, of his attempts to check the files of the neo-imperial personnel the major had told him about, and of his visit with Colonel Havelock. Major Diehl came in bearing steaming cups of tea, set them down before the two men, and left without a word. The questioning continued, leading from members of the New Empire to Stavan and his investigation to Stavan himself, past and present, and it was several hours before Sturm took off his glasses, shut the folder, and stood up.

"I will be back shortly," he said. He tucked the dossier under his arm and left, leaving Stavan sitting alone in the little room. He fiddled with the empty cup in front of him, then glanced back at the mirror. He wasn't looking any better than he had two hours before. The bad thing was still behind the glass, unseen and lurking. The commander swallowed nervously, then turned his gaze to the depths of his tea cup, concentrating on the tiny grains of leaf instead of whatever it was that was looking at him.

* * *

"The New Empire," Lloth Morne was saying as Major Sturm stepped into the viewing room. "He could lead us right to it!" The Reborn held up a clenched fist. "_Then _we can avenge our faction and our comrades!"

"There will be difficulties in that," Sturm said. "However, if we can get one of those coordinate-cards, we could play them a visit at their home base."

"We could just bomb Canaida flat," Diehl remarked. "See what those traitors make of that." One corner of his mouth twitched upward at the inadvertent rhyme. "They've given us enough trouble," he added.

The old man shook his head. "No. It would be greater in the long term to take prisoners. I suspect Admiral Makar is only the beginning of their list of allies, and I intend to find out who else is on that list."

"The 777th Legion could be useful," Jeedan Quay said, "as soldiers of _our _new reborn Empire." He turned a thoughtful gaze on their new leader, who sat gazing through the two-way mirror in thought. "If their captain has been collecting talented personnel from across the Empire, their faction will be full of beings both strong and useful. My lord?"

"Erril Kaven," said Hrakis, baring his teeth in a predatory smile. "An imperial knight. How interesting." His reptilian eyes moved over the assembled officers and Reborn, and he said, "We will use this Commander Stavan in order to locate the New Empire, and as the major said, to pay them a...visit. Do what you wish with Rathbone, but leave Kaven to me." He rose, towering over all the others. "Yes, we are on the verge of a new Empire. A new Empire of the _Sith_."

* * *

After what had seemed like an eternity the door to the interrogation room slid open, admitting both Major Sturm and Major Diehl. Their prisoner looked up and blanched.

"You will be permitted to return to Leto and continue your investigation," Sturm told him. Stavan blinked in surprise. "However, you are now working alongside the ISB. You will report to us, you will answer to us, and you will obey our every command, is that clear?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"The Reborn Dark Jedi Lloth Morne and Jeedan Quay will be accompanying you back to your base, where they will now be posted according to the wishes of their own commander." The older major nodded to the younger, who gave Stavan an evil grin. "In addition, Major Diehl will also be working with you, keeping an eye on your movements and acting as the intermediary between yourself and the security bureau."

In the privacy of his mind, Stavan said some things that were not very nice. However, out loud he answered, "I understand. Thank you, Major, for the support of the ISB."

* * *

It had been nearly three days that Commander Stavan had been gone from Leto, and it was at sunset on the third day that the ISB operations ship came firing down out of the sky, swept over the base, and landed neatly on one of the landing pads at the airfield.

Omar was one of the half-dozen Stormtroopers gathered together to greet the security ship, and they stood in two lines of three off to either side of Major von Hammerstein, who stood with his hands laced behind his back, his legs apart. No words were spoken, but the silence was expectant. Was the commander still alive, or had the ISB had him executed?

The ramp came down. Von Hammerstein shifted slightly.

Two Reborn Dark Jedi disembarked, as well as an unkind-looking major and a contingent of a dozen ISB Stormtroopers. Walking at the major's side was Commander Stavan; Omar did a discreet damage check on the man and concluded that Stavan wasn't injured, at least not visibly. He still had all his limbs and fingers, and there were no bruises on the skin that was visible. He looked harassed, though, and as if he hadn't had much sleep over the last few days.

Stavan went to von Hammerstein. "Have quarters set aside for these men, Major," he said curtly. "They'll be staying at this base."

_Oh, great, _Omar thought. _Now they're going to expect us to mingle with those jerks._ ISB Stormtroopers gave a bad name to the rest; they were completely loyal to the security bureau and its minions, they had no moral compasses of their own, they did not hesitate to shoot civilians, unarmed or not, and privately Omar thought that they were either brainwashed or sociopathic, the lot of them.

He paused at that thought. Brainwashing...

They hadn't brainwashed Commander Stavan, had they? He looked hard at the commander, who stood with the ISB major talking to Major von Hammerstein. He didn't look blank-faced and robotic or anything, which was how Omar imagined that brainwashing victims looked. He just looked tired and cranky.

Von Hammerstein nodded and turned to the three troopers standing across from Omar and his two comrades, instructing them to prepare quarters for the Stormtroopers from the security bureau, as well as for the Reborn and the major.

Stavan turned his head, and caught sight of Omar. He was one of those officers who could tell who was who among the troopers even when they were in full armour, and when he saw Omar standing there a weird look came over his face, like a relieved smile that he was trying to tamp down. He looked away quickly.

The ISB major's hazel eyes settled on the Stormtrooper. Then he smirked and put a hand on Stavan's shoulder as they walked past the remaining troopers, who fell into step behind them.

_I've got a real bad feeling about this, _Omar thought, as he followed them all into the base.


	16. Chapter 15: Eclipse

**Chapter 15:**

**Eclipse**

_Infel. A small planet located on the Outer Rim territories._

"Atten_tion!_" Sergeant Ellis barked. The eight soldiers straightened, hands at their sides and their eyes forward. Five of them were human; among the others were two Arkanians and a Twi'lek. They were the ones that Colonel Bancroft had selected for the investigation, all with good combat records and experience in dealing with imperials. They stood in a line before the sergeant, who looked them over critically. Ellis himself was no exception; his record since joining the Rebellion had been spotless, and prior to that he had served the Empire as a Stormtrooper. The colonel had wanted soldiers familiar with the Empire in various ways, and he had gotten them.

A movement caught his eye, and he stood at attention as their officer and the two Jedi knights arrived.

"I am Lieutenant Aerin Sutler," said the officer, stopping before them. He was tall and spare, with straight dark hair and a narrow face. His eyes moved over the men, examining each of them.

"All of you have been chosen for a very special purpose," he continued. "There is a new faction of the Empire out there that calls itself the _New _Empire, and it aims to use Jedi to further its own goals. Intel reports that it already has two of these imperial knights, and there may be more out there. The only thing known about it is that it exists somewhere in this galaxy. _Our _job is to find out where. This is not primarily a combat mission-" he saw a flicker of disappointment pass over the face of one of the men, "-but I have no doubt that we _will _see combat at some points in our investigation." The soldier, Nom Carver, brightened again.

Sutler took a step back and waved a hand in the direction of the Jedi. "Joining us is Master Trev and Master Kodar, of the Jedi academy. They will be with us on all of our missions, and they will be the intermediaries between ourselves and the Jedi order..."

The lieutenant continued to brief the men. Meanwhile, two storeys above them, two figures stood by an office window, listening to the stream of words coming from below.

"I do hope they're successful," said Colonel Bancroft, watching them. "Well, they're all good men-" he paused briefly, "-well, maybe not Carver, but the rest are good." He nodded in satisfaction. "All across the galaxy, imperial soldiers are flocking to this neo-imperial banner. I simply _must _see what the fuss is all about."

"Curiosity killed the cat, Colonel," said Lieutenant Kano. He stood on Bancroft's right, looking out the window at the small group of soldiers and Jedi. A quiet and stoic man, he had been picked up on Nebelland along with Bancroft himself, and at the colonel's request he had remained with him as his aide following their defection. He was in his late twenties, with dark blonde hair and hard, masculine features.

"How lucky, then, that I am not a cat." Bancroft leaned his hands on the windowsill. "This New Empire sounds like it could be a potential powerhouse."

"Potentially it could put an end to the New Republic." Now Kano turned his face fully to Bancroft. His prosthetic right eye stood out starkly, with its pale blue iris and dark blue pupil in contrast to the dark hazel of his organic left eye. A scar marred the right side of his face, a sweeping vertical knife-slash that had been inflicted six months earlier during their escape from Nebelland. It ran from the middle of Kano's cheek nearly to his hairline.

A memory passed through the colonel's mind, of being in the cabin of the imperial shuttle that they had taken off-planet, trying to staunch the bleeding while his lieutenant lay stock-still trying to accept the fact that he had just lost his eye. He had gotten off easier than Lieutenant Ryan, the third of their trio, however, whose last-minute treachery had forced Bancroft to shoot him. That had been a tragedy; Ryan had always been one of Bancroft's favourites, and immaculately loyal up until the moment when he had pulled a blaster on his superior.

Well, what happened on Nebelland was in the past now, and it was time to move on.

"It could, couldn't it," the older man mused. Below them, Sutler and the others were dispersing. "We'll have to keep a close eye on this one..."

* * *

The emperor had come to Corulag.

The noise of the crowds filled the square as six Red Guards disembarked from the shuttle and assembled on either side of the ramp. Emperor Palpatine was next to emerge; it had only been nine years since the Empire had risen from the ashes of the Old Republic, and the emperor had not yet begun to walk with the cane that he would be seen with in later years.

From where he stood on his tiptoes Lieutenant Lee Rathbone caught a glimpse of the old man's cowled head. It was the first time he had seen Palpatine in person. His eyes narrowing, the officer began to push his way through the crowd, moving closer to the emperor. "Excuse me-pardon me-yes, out of the way..."

Palpatine! A man he had waited years to see. Old and shrivelled and ugly since the 'attack' made on him by the Jedi, but appearances were deceiving. Under that guise of frailty was one of the most wicked creatures the galaxy had ever known. Lee stared at him, the embers of hatred in his heart fanned to life at the mere sight of the man, and at his sides his hands closed into fists.

A towering black figure came into view then, following the emperor. Over the crowd and at this distance Lee could not hear the regulated breathing of Lord Darth Vader, but he could well imagine it. The Sith Lord drew abreast of the old man, his long cape billowing behind him. The young officer could see the lightsaber at his hip. Palpatine's was not visible, but he knew it was there regardless; it had to be there, hidden somewhere in the voluminous depths of his black robes. How could it not be known that Palpatine was the Dark Lord of the Sith, instead of Vader? The Sith served no one but themselves. If Vader were truly their Dark Lord, he would have killed the old man and taken the throne for himself already. To Lee it was obvious that he bore the emperor no love; duty alone kept him at Palpatine's side.

Darth Vader's head turned, and he seemed to look directly at the lieutenant. A cold chill ran down Lee's spine. Vader looked away, and strode on ahead of the emperor.

The young man began to push through the crowd again, trying to keep Palpatine in his sights. "Excuse me, _scha'me, _move, please...get out of my way!" He thrust a Rodian aside, and the way to the emperor was clear. The knife sheathed at his belt felt heavier at the sight, as though it wished to remind him of its presence.

He had waited so long for this day. He moved closer.

Closer, now. The emperor was so close, a few arms' lengths away. The Red Guards were close as well. No doubt they were fast, but all he needed was to be a half-second faster.

He took another step forward, his eyes on Palpatine. He had been there the day Order 66 had been issued. He had seen the Jedi die with his own eyes. Master Freia, shot down by her own troops. Master Nafein shot as well, while he and the sixteen-year-old Lee were trying to get to safety. The Jedi's padawan, too, was lost that day. The whole Jedi order had ceased to be.

Palpatine's head turned, and his hooded reptilian eyes settled on the lieutenant, standing at the edge of the crowd a few metres away.

Lee smiled and bowed shortly. "My emperor," he said.

_You had it coming. _The knife was in his hand now, and the Red Guards were moving. They would not be fast enough.

His hand drew back slightly, and he took another quick step forward, preparing to use his momentum to drive the blade straight into Palpatine's stomach, but a white-hot pain suddenly drove through him like a lance. He looked down and saw the tip of a red lightsaber protruding from his chest. The knife dropped from his hand.

_How could I forget him? _Lee thought.

Darth Vader retracted the blade and took a step back. The lieutenant crumpled.

* * *

Captain Lee Rathbone awoke.

He was looking up at the ceiling of his office. It was quiet and dark-the lights were off-and moonlight shone dimly through the window. He was lying on the small couch, his legs dangling over the armrest from the knee down.

It had not been the first time he had dreamed of such a thing. Since joining the Empire he had mentally addressed the issue of Palpatine's assassination from every angle, and his thoughts had leaked into his dreams more than once. He died in most of them. Usually at the hands of Vader, but sometimes a Red Guard got lucky, and other times it had been the Clone Troopers who had shot the Jedi Masters out in the wilds of Mobius.

The captain sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his face tiredly with both hands. He was no stranger to nightmares, he had had enough of them over the years, but they had begun to creep up on him lately. A shadow had begun to weigh on his mind, a dark threat looming just on the horizon. Something bad was going to happen.

It was too hot in the room. Despite being in his shirtsleeves, he was stifling. Getting to his feet, Lee went to the window and slid it wide open. A cold rush of air blew into the office, bathing his body in its coolness and blowing his silvery hair back. The wind-driven snowflakes peppered his face and neck with tiny pricks of cold.

He closed his eyes and just let the cold wash over and through him. It was the deep night, between one and two in the morning, when most were asleep and the rest were quiet. Outside it was chill and pristine, and snowdrifts glittered in the lights of the base. A perfect winter night.

Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled. The captain smiled, feeling better for hearing that sound. He listened to the faraway answering howls for a few minutes, and found that he was feeling a lot more alive. He shut the window, then combed his hair back, dressed, and left the office.

The 'intelligence' branch of the New Empire was far from a legitimate enterprise. Although it did indeed contain some officers who had actually been in imperial intelligence before joining the faction, the cracks were filled in by hackers, spies, trail-blazers, and ersatz-intelligencers. Within the core group there were less than two hundred of these, spread out in small groups across neo-imperial bases and throughout the galaxy.

At Canaida Base there were a dozen agents, who were headed by Soren Fenn-Snake-Eyes to most-who was the senior intelligence agent on the base. Formerly an unremarkable army lieutenant, Snake-Eyes had discovered a passion and a talent for hacking that had gotten him into trouble. Captain Rathbone had rescued him from almost certain execution and taken him to Canaida, where he had parked him in front of a bank of computers and proceeded to loose him upon the galaxy at large. He had not once regretted it. Fenn had helped him find quite a few neo-imperial recruits, not to mention a few of the other agents on the base.

The Canaidan agents had formed a certain fellowship and, and acting on a streak of humour that seemed native to them all, they had decided that their base of operations was going to be a secret one. After a lot of planning, several miniature conspiracies, and one minor act of bribery, they had it. The door to their headquarters was very well disguised, and just looked like plain wall to anyone walking by it. Despite the large number of personnel at the base, only a handful knew where intelligence's hideout was, and any new intelligence agents had to find the place on their own before they would be let in. The Stormtroopers on base had nicknamed it the Secret Clubhouse, and the name had stuck, much to the amusement of the intelligencers.

It was to the Clubhouse that Captain Rathbone was headed now, and out of consideration for his agents he made sure that no one saw him go in.

The hidden door opened into a common room where the officers took their breaks and spent much of their off-duty time. It was a converted lounge; there was a kitchenette in one corner, while a couch, coffee table, and holoplayer took up another small portion of the room. Two computers faced each other near the right wall. A door on the left side of the chamber opened into a corridor that led to more personal working areas, storage space, and records.

There were two agents in the commons now, Soren Fenn himself and Lugosi Gammell, who was asleep on the couch. The disc case for some cheesy horror holo lay on the coffee table. It had a picture of a mynock on it, and the title had been rendered in that drippy font that B-movies across the universe seemed to favour. _Attack of the 50-Foot Mynock, _it said.

Gammell and his bad movies. Shaking his head, Captain Rathbone turned to Snake-Eyes, who was busy tacking away at something on his computer. "Any news?" he inquired.

The hacker stopped typing and swivelled in his chair. "Here and there, chief," he said. He was a Fenn, and that meant jet-black hair, golden eyes, and a criminal streak a mile wide. He was a cousin of some sort to the former Jedi-turned-pirate Talin Fenn, and even though he was considerably more law-abiding than _anyone _on Talin's side of the family, sometimes when he smiled there was more than a hint of roguishness in the expression.

"Let's hear it, then," the captain replied.

"Captain Ellery's sent in the latest updates to our maps. They've found an inhabitable planet that doesn't seem to have any sentient natives-they named it Daemmrung. They haven't run across any ships on their patrol, though." Fenn grinned. "That one Destroyer with tentacles is at it again, and it apparently sucked a Republic merchant ship dry out in the Kunal system."

"Issue a warning to all of our ships about that one, then."

"Yes, sir. And...another thing..."

"What is it?"

Snake-Eyes looked uncertain. "Well, there's a group that wants to meet with us about defecting. I picked up the message a few hours ago-it was being broadcast into the UR in general."

"A group. How large?"

"Maybe...fifty or so. They said they were left from the Shanast campaign, the ones taken to Entralla. They changed their minds."

They exchanged a look. "I very much doubt that," Captain Rathbone said, frowning. "Nonetheless...we shall see. If we meet with them, it will be on _our _terms only. Reply to them from elsewhere, Lieutenant, and find out their location. We will send a droid for negotiations. No organics."

The younger man nodded. "Yes, sir. Should-"

"'s a trick. Get an axe," Gammell muttered, from where he lay. There was a rustle of fabric from the couch that suggested that the lieutenant had rolled over. "Mm."

The captain looked to Snake-Eyes and raised an eyebrow. "He does that sometimes, after a movie night," the lieutenant explained. "But, I was saying...should we perform a memory wipe on the droid prior to sending it? I don't trust this."

"Yes. Wipe its memory. I should not like a _droid _giving us away." Like many Mobians, the captain had a disdain for droids, although he seemed to find the non-humanoid ones tolerable. He rubbed his temple. "Fenn, have you a means of remotely wiping the coordinate-cards?"

Snake-Eyes shook his head. "No, sir."

"How many are out there right now-that don't belong to our core ships?"

The hacker's eyes narrowed as he thought. "Um...just one."

Captain Rathbone relaxed. He knew whose that was. "Good."

"Captain?"

"I want to know more about this Daemmrung," the older man mused. "I shall send a survey team there. If it is appropriate, we may have a new base..."

The lieutenant nodded slowly. He knew that if their location on Canaida were ever compromised, the captain had staked out a few locations to which they could safely retreat. Daemmrung could well be on the list now, depending on what the team found.

He turned back to the computer and opened Ellery's report.

* * *

There appeared to be no life at the base on Ioun; however many imperials had been there the last time Nova and Bal had visited, it seemed that they were all gone now. Ioun was as desolate as ever. The only visible life forms were the patches of coniferous trees and the short, scrubby bushes that grew everywhere.

The group standing before the building regarded it silently. A gust of wind sent a tumbleweed rolling past them.

"Spread out and search the base," Sutler said. "Remain in constant communication, and report anything unusual-no matter how small."

Sergeant Ellis nodded and started off, shouting orders to the other soldiers, who did as their sergeant ordered and separated into two groups of three, which went in through the main entrance. The remaining two men joined the ex-Stormtrooper, and they started around the side of the building.

"Do you think the New Empire built this base?" the lieutenant asked the Jedi, once Ellis and the others had gone. They moved closer to the building.

Bal cocked his head, reaching out to touch the ferrocrete with his hand. "Maybe. But this one looks like it's been here for a while." He tapped the weather-stained surface with his finger. "At least ten years."

"We know that the computers and everything else work fine," Nova added, putting her hands on her hips. "There were barriers installed in one of the hallways, and they used it to separate us from Kaven."

"Perhaps we could find records, then," Sutler mused. Natasi, the Twi'lek, was good with computers. Given enough time, he might be able to access some files and check the dates of their creation, among other things. The officer drew the comlink from his breast pocket and raised it to his lips. "Natasi, this is Lieutenant Sutler. See if you can get to a computer terminal and get into any files stored there."

"_With pleasure, Lieutenant,_" the alien replied over the channel.

Sutler put the thing away, then drew his blaster and followed the Jedi into the base.

They still had not encountered anyone an hour later, and though the power was on, there was not even a mouse droid in sight. There were no AT-STs, there were no protocol droids, there were no ships in the hangar or on the airfield. The Iounian base was empty...for now.

An hour had passed and still the Jedi had not sensed anything. Sutler's blaster was back in its holster, and he was walking at Bal's side while Nova trotted ahead of them, stopping every now and then to peer into long silent corridors and empty offices.

"Anything yet, Sergeant?" Sutler asked, through his comlink. He spoke quietly, as if to match the almost tangible silence of the building.

"_Nothing yet, sir,_" Ellis replied. "_This place had people in it recently enough. It's been kept up, and there aren't any animals or their leavings around. A week, give or take a few days. That would be my guess._"

The lieutenant nodded and switched channels. "Natasi. Any luck?"

"_Not yet, sir; I'm at a terminal and slicing like mad over here, but these codes are making me sweat,_" the Twi'lek replied. "_I'll need at least another hour to make heads or tails of them; they're definitely not standard imperial issue._"

Ahead of the trio, the corridor disappeared down a short flight of stairs, at the end of which was a door leading to some secluded basement area.

"All right. Keep working at it," Sutler told him, then put the comlink away. Nova disappeared into the basement, and the two men followed.

The corridor it opened into was short and gloomy, and on the right-hand side were several doors, none of which were locked. There was one on the left as well, and this was locked, its keypad dusty from disuse.

"Not a room they use much, I guess," Nova said, and waved a hand. The door slid open. Locks were not near enough to stop a Jedi. She went in. "Oh...I can see why."

"What is it?" the lieutenant asked. He went in after her, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what the room was.

A torture chamber. Sutler looked around himself at the whips and manacles, at the hooks and chains, and felt something unpleasant steal into the pit of his stomach. His face still, he turned slowly in place, taking it all in.

"It's old," Nova said, sounding very far away. "There's dust, and those, uh, things, have gone rusty..."

Sutler's gaze drifted to a post to which a prisoner could be chained, and suddenly thought: _A beautiful voice._

A memory came rushing back at that, hitting him headlong, taking him by surprise. Heavy iron manacles around his wrists, a post digging into his chest as he tried to shrink into it and away from the man standing behind him, the shriek loud in his throat as the whip cut across his back again.

_You have a beautiful voice, Aerin, _the imperial officer had said to him. _Let's hear it again._

He realized that he had been holding his breath. He let it out, quietly. Stoicism, for Sutler, had been a learned trait, and back then he had screamed plenty for the torturer. He turned away from the post, biting his knuckle.

"You all right, Lieutenant?"

He looked up into the face of Bal, who was watching him with some concern. He nodded. "Yes. Fine," he said, a little breathlessly. "I'll be...out in the corridor, if you need me." Then he turned and left that hellish place, shutting the door so that he wouldn't have to look at what lay beyond it, and leaned against the wall.

Three days spent in the grip of that imperial lieutenant, seeing only him during those long hours and wondering more and more if the world outside the cell really existed anymore, and towards the end of it even _wanting _to talk to that man, to tell him anything and everything if it would only please him. In retrospect that scared and disturbed him almost as much as the ordeal had. Torture did not affect the body alone.

He had nearly broken. But he had not. He had been rescued by rebels and spirited away, before the torturer could complete whatever enchantment he had been weaving over his captive.

From inside the chamber he could hear the soft murmur of voices. Bal and Nova, talking about something. About him, perhaps?

He remembered something similar, standing out of sight beside a doorway and listening as two of his new rebel allies whispered in the next room of the little cabin they had hidden in while Sutler was healing up. _He's damaged goods, all right, _Lon Antilles had said. _Are you sure he's tough enough to join the Rebellion, Wes? _Wes Kellitz had just shrugged and replied, _He'll have to be._

_Damaged goods, _Sutler thought. _Too true._

The door to the torture chamber slid open, and the Jedi emerged. Both looked concerned. Sutler smiled at them and said, "I got dizzy." Before they could say anything he added, "The instruments in there were quite old. I think this base has been around longer than the New Empire has. Some of the equipment in other parts of the building is obsolete by thirty years or more, quite possibly predating the Empire. Perhaps it wasn't even an imperial base to begin with."

"You think they've just been using this place just as a drop point, then?" Bal asked.

Sutler nodded. "Probably. This is an obscure planet-I'd never heard of it before the incident with Kaven, but it is in the register."

"It's so out of the way that it never gets any visitors," the Zabrak Jedi said thoughtfully. "Yeah, that would be useful to these imperials."

They left the corridor and went back up the short flight of stairs. The Jedi didn't ask any questions of him, and for that Sutler was grateful. After another forty-five minutes of fruitless wandering they met up with Sergeant Ellis, Nom Carver, and Kell Odea.

"Anything to report?" Sutler asked.

The sergeant shook his head. "No, sir. It doesn't look like much of the base is used even when there are imperials here."

"We came across Natasi hard at work," Nom said, grinning. "Heh. He'd be pulling his hair out if he had any."

"Where is he?" Nova asked.

The soldier jerked a thumb toward a nearby door, and the woman went in. Letting the trio continue on, Bal and Sutler followed after Nova. The room was an office, and inside it they found Natasi sitting at the computer desk, staring at the monitor as if it had personally offended him.

"These codes are insane," the alien said, before anyone else could speak. "They're not imperial, they're...I don't know what. It's all gobbledegook." He rubbed his forehead. "It's possible that these are not standardised at all, but just agreed-upon codes with, say, some book as the source of answers." He swivelled in his chair to face Sutler. "It was only a small group of officers here, so that arrangement could have worked. They probably know each other pretty well."

"See if you can get anything," Sutler said, and turned to the Jedi. "Nova, I remember you said that a Twi'lek fitting the description of the bounty hunter Madeen was here with the imperial troops when Kaven def-was captured."

Nova nodded, recalling the little group that had made off with Kaven. The two Stormtroopers, carrying the unconscious Jedi. The bounty hunter, with some weird yellow thing strapped across her shoulders. The officer with a scar on his cheek, warning the Jedi not to come any closer, moving to the back of the group to protect them.

"She's in league with the New Empire," Sutler continued, "or at least she was. If we captured her, I'm sure she would have a lot to tell us." It was time to get even with Madeen after the double-cross in the warehouse. He had lost men that night. "She's a guild member. All we'll need is to arrange a meeting."

The Jedi smiled. "Then we'll have her."

* * *

Kaven's long robe brushed lightly across the snow as he walked through the forest of conifers. It was quiet and sheltered in there, and the only sounds were those of nature. A bright red bird perched on a branch above the knight's head chirped, then flew off in a flurry of wing beats.

Snowflakes had settled in Kaven's hair and across his shoulders, and his cheeks were pink. He was far from the base now; he had begun to go further and further away on his walks, as if he were hoping to leave his frustrations behind along with the building. He had been having more bad dreams lately, and for the last few nights he had not even bothered going back to bed once he had been awakened.

But that was not all of it. All right, the lack of proper rest had made him a little short with the others, it was true, and he had even argued with Jan, but he felt that he could not attribute everything to nightmare-induced crabbiness. Some nameless dread had begun to grow in him, and he wondered if something bad were not about to happen. Perhaps...to one of the captains?

He came to a halt. It had begun to snow again, great fluffy snowflakes that fell straight down to earth, and the snowfall made the woods at once peaceful and sad and secluded.

Kaven turned his face upward. He liked Demarco; the younger captain was pleasant and friendly, and he would be justifiably upset if anything happened to him. And Captain Rathbone...

The knight snorted. He knew that he would be upset if anything happened to Captain _Rathbone, _even though he had no real reason to be. They weren't friends-the captain just didn't seem to take any interest in Kaven as a person. It had been nearly two weeks since Demarco had told him that the captain would come around in time, but there was no sign of that happening in the foreseeable future. Had Demarco just said that to make him feel better?

_A heart as cold as the planet he was born on, _Kaven thought. _I guess you were right, Kord. _He didn't understand why he liked Lee Rathbone; surely the captain didn't really care for him, so there was no reason why Kaven should care for _him_-right? He was just his cold-hearted commander, wasn't he?

He sighed. _I hope you weren't right about everything else you said._

But what if he had been? Then Kaven would be the biggest fool in the galaxy, swallowing lies too readily and hoping for affection that did not exist.

Frustration welled up inside him. Anger at Captain Rathbone, and anger at himself for being such a-a what? A clingy twit? The captain's pet Jedi? He knew that he ought to be giving his affections to someone who would give them back, not following the Ice King around like some lost puppy, but still he kept doing the latter. Why? _Why?_

Kaven scowled. The more he thought about it, the more annoyed and frustrated he became. To the training hall, then, when he got back to the base. He would crank the sabre droid up to the highest setting. He wanted to _hit _something.

The knight turned and stormed off in the direction of the base.

* * *

Stavan awoke just as the sun began to rise, and the red-gold light of the early morning filled his room as he threw back his covers and swung his legs over the side of the bunk.

It had been that same awful dream again. It was the third time in the last week and a half that he had had it; in it he sat at a great big table covered with tiny jigsaw puzzle pieces, trying to put it together despite not knowing what the picture would be, and suspecting that it was not one picture but many, and searching in vain for edge pieces that were nowhere to be found, just so he could put it all into perspective, all while Major Diehl stood behind him, tapping his foot and growing more and more impatient.

Oh, Stavan knew well what that dream was all about; the mystery of the New Empire, trying to see where it began and ended, and not knowing really where to begin, while Diehl kept an eye on him.

It hadn't been so bad, so far; he had expected the ISB major to be constantly breathing down his neck, but in reality Diehl had been preoccupied with other matters that he did not mention-probably the ISB's own research-and had left Stavan to his duties, for the most part. Of the Reborn he had seen very little; the two Dark Jedi did not concern themselves in the affairs of the base, and spent most of their time out in the hills doing whatever it was that Jedi did with the Force, instead of rubbing elbows with such lesser beings as Stormtroopers and imperial officers. The optimist in Stavan had brought this up cheerfully, while the realist in him pointed out that he had only been with Diehl for eight days. Things could change.

After he had showered and dressed, he went to the cafeteria for breakfast. He wasn't particularly hungry, but it was going to be a busy day and he was going to want something to run on. Taking his tray to a table by one of the windows, he sat down and began to mentally arrange his schedule as he ate.

Presently a shadow fell over him. He looked up.

"Morning, Commander," said Omar. Stavan relaxed. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

The commander tapped the table with his finger. "Have a seat, then." As the Stormtrooper slid in across from him, Stavan reflected on something one of the instructors had always said in the academy, that officers were not to fraternise with the enlisted men. He could almost see the man's glower right now. "What is it?"

"I don't know if it would help at all, but there's a book fair going on in town. Maybe you could find something about Mobius during the Clone Wars?" The trooper poked at his food with his fork. "I mean, it was the biggest war ever, and you wanted to know about the Jedi serving there, and there are always a lot of books and journals and whatnot after something like that. Maybe one of the clones published one."

Stavan looked at him, inspired. "That's a good idea. I wish I'd thought of it."

The trooper grinned down at his tray. "Thank you, sir." Encouraged, he added, "It sounds like there are a lot of stories from Mobius back then. When you were talking to the colonel, we were with Janeel-ah, that's that cute maid, remember?-and she said there were myths about huge sentient wolves that lived deep in the woods, and some kid with them, and a friend of her dad's wrote a book about that one, and all sorts of haunted caves and weird creatures in the Stanes Mountains...and so on."

_Wintry, legend-haunted Mobius, _thought Stavan, with some amusement. He smiled and said, "Maybe one of these ghosts can tell-"

"You know, Stavan," a voice cut in, "you should really be breakfasting with your own kind."

Both men turned their heads to see Major Diehl approaching with a tray in his hands. "That is to say, _officers,_" the ISB major added, with a glance at Omar. There was a brief pause, then Diehl nodded toward a table full of Stormtroopers. "TR-671, you belong with the enlisted men, not the officers. You may return to them."

"Yes, sir," the Stormtrooper said hurriedly, standing up. He took his tray and trotted off.

Diehl sat across from Stavan, where the trooper had been sitting a moment earlier. "You shouldn't encourage them," he said. "It breeds insubordination."

"As you say, Major," said Stavan.

The major smiled a little. If he had been a nice man, he would have been a handsome one; his features were good, but his nature was not. "I want you to get in contact with Kaine," he told Stavan. "He is to retrieve at least one of the coordinate-cards used to take ships to Canaida. Afterward you and he will arrange a meeting in which he will officially defect. Understand?"

"I understand." Stavan paused. A cold chill had run down his back. "Are you going to bomb them from orbit?"

"It would save us a lot of trouble if we did and be done with it," Diehl said. "But what we are planning is not your concern." He gave the commander a smile that was probably meant to be friendly. "Don't worry about it! The New Empire will be the security bureau's affair to take care of. All _you _need to do is keep contact with your friend Kaine."

_They're going to kill them all, _Stavan thought._ In the end, that's what it's going to come to._

He stood up. As he lifted his tray Diehl said, "You haven't finished your breakfast, Commander."

Stavan looked down at him. "I've lost my appetite," he said.

* * *

Kaven was in the training hall practicing with a bunch of remotes when Lee Rathbone entered. There were five of them, all firing in bursts, and the knight was deflecting them all.

It was fortunate and reassuring that he supplemented his practice of Makashi with blaster defence training, the captain mused as he watched Kaven turn aside four shots in quick succession; ever since the Clone Wars Jedi ran very real risks of being gunned down, and he had seen it twice too often.

Feeling the older man's presence, Kaven stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Then he just turned back to the remotes and kept practicing, without a word.

The gesture struck Lee as strangely cold, and he said, "Erril."

Now Kaven stopped and waved the remotes away. "Yeah?" he asked, putting a hand on his hip.

"I am arranging a squad to meet with a group of potential defectors on Torek. I want you to accompany us."

Kaven's voice was curiously flat. "Why don't you take Jan instead?"

"Because he is in training, and _you _are the senior knight," Captain Rathbone told him. "And what's more, your skills may be needed if things don't go as they ought to."

The pilot turned to him, his face blank. "So I'm the most useful, huh?"

Kaven's voice was still toneless, and Lee suddenly felt as if he were walking on eggshells. "Erril...you are my valued agent," he said carefully, "and I would like you to be my bodyguard for this trip." He paused. "If you are willing."

Kaven ran a hand through his hair and looked anywhere but at the captain and seemed about to refuse, but then something in his eyes changed and he said, "Yes, I'm willing-you'll need somebody to protect you in case something happens." He looked up at Lee and smiled apologetically, seeming more like himself again. "Sorry, Captain. I...um. When do we leave?"

"The day after tomorrow." The captain stared at the Jedi. Kaven was looking a little pale and a lot regretful. "Are you...quite all right?"

"Yeah. I, uh, I'm just tired, I'll try to catch a few winks before we leave." With a wave of his arm Kaven sent the remotes back to their boxes, then hurried out the door, past the older man.

Captain Rathbone turned with him, his mouth opening, but the pilot was gone before he could say anything. _He lied to me, _the captain thought, astonished. _He actually _lied _to me..._

* * *

"_I hope this will not be long,_" said Rheas Dalen, his holographic image flickering a little as he spoke. He was a sturdily-built man with a short goatee and dark hair that was thinning on top. "_I am a very busy man._"

"And I am an imperial _commander _working under the jurisdiction of the ISB, sir," Commander Stavan said icily. "It will be as long as it needs to be."

Dalen's eyes narrowed. "_What is your business with me, then?_"

"A certain student attended the Corulag Imperial Military Academy, where you have been an instructor for twenty-eight years. I want all the information that you can provide on this man. His name was Lee Rathbone."

The officer's irritation gave way to surprise. "_Rathbone? Yes, I remember him. Supposedly dead after Endor. Weird kid. Where shall I begin, Commander?_"

"Begin with his arrival at the academy."

"_It was six years after the rise of the Empire that he came to us. He passed all the necessary tests and paid his fees without issue, but he had neither the social connections nor the status that the other students enjoyed. He was an orphan of the Clone Wars, the son of a couple of dead scientists from the University of Johanneston. As far as we were concerned, he was a plebeian._" What was undoubtedly meant to be a little smile touched Dalen's mouth, but he was not a man accustomed to smiling and the expression looked more like a grimace instead. "_I heard a student say that he was hatched from an egg found in the snow, but I note that the young man was most careful not to say it within earshot of Rathbone himself. Whatever his origins, the young man proved himself an exceptional student. His ambition was remarkable._"

Stavan was nodding. "What can you say about him personally?"

"_He was a calculating young man, and absolutely cold-blooded. I have heard a saying on Mobius that those born in a fimbulwinter carry the frost in their veins. Perhaps that is true._" The officer folded his arms, looking toward the ceiling of his office many parsecs away as he thought. "_In any case, he kept his thoughts to himself and was not what you would call a social butterfly._" Then he smirked. "_If you want to know of him as a man, Eira Summer would know more, I'm _sure. _There were rumours that they were having an affair, after all, and even _he _must have engaged in pillow talk after Summer melted his frost._"

It was a name that the young commander knew; Summer had been one of the instructors at the academy. "Were there any other incidents?" Stavan asked, a bit put off by the crudeness of the comment.

Dalen shrugged. "_A few fights. Obviously he had had some combat training before he joined, and some students took exception to being bested all the time. On one notable occasion it turned out three-on-one wasn't _quite _good enough._" Again he paused for thought. "_Oh, yes, once there was an attempted robbery at some shop somewhere in the city where Rathbone happened to be, and he broke the would-be robber's arm. And-no. That had nothing to do with him..._"

"Tell me," Stavan said. "I said I wanted to hear it all."

"_I only brought it up because the student in question had been feuding with Rathbone since his arrival. He choked to death in the cafeteria one day. Rathbone was only one of two hundred witnesses, and he had been sitting halfway across the room at the time._"

"I see. Was there anything else?"

"_No. He was better-behaved than many, and but for those two incidents, he kept out of trouble._"

"Where is Eira Summer these days?"

The instructor snorted. "_Raising farm animals of some sort on Leto, some scruffy backwater planet out in the middle of-_"

"Very well. That will be all, sir. The ISB thanks you for your assistance." Stavan leaned forward and shut off the projector. Dalen's image shrunk into nothing in the blink of an eye. The commander took off his cap and tossed it on the desk next to him, then ran a hand through his hair.

_One down, X to go, _he thought. He checked his watch. It was only the middle of the morning. He thought about what to do next. There might be something at the book fair, and after that, talking to an old lover of the captain's could be useful...and perhaps sometime in the future another trip to Mobius would be in order. This time, to Johanneston.

He thought of the great jigsaw puzzle, and wondered if its completion might not mark the death of the New Empire. There was a small, but gradually more vocal part of him that did not enjoy the thought, and even though he had no love for the faction, seeing what might happen to it was giving him more pause than he had expected.

But...he couldn't stop. The security bureau had him in its grasp now, and there was no defying the ISB.

* * *

"So the search team didn't find anything on Ioun," Bancroft said. He and Lieutenant Kano were standing in the corridor outside the small gym on the Infellian base, where he had caught the lieutenant just as he was coming back from a workout. Bancroft was not much of a gym-goer, preferring to get his exercise elsewhere, but Kano attended regularly. "Perhaps the imperials only use it at times, or perhaps they found out that New Republic agents were coming."

"No-one was told of the mission," his aide replied. "So they couldn't have found out."

"Psh, anyone could see that something was up," the colonel replied, waving a hand. "Two Jedi and a group of soldiers, coupled with a recent defector and rumours of a new bunch of imperials. Even if nobody says it, all that needs to be done is to put two and two together."

Kano gazed down at the colonel. He had a full ten centimetres on the man. "You think someone might have warned them?" he asked, quietly.

Bancroft just shrugged. "It could have been anything." He glanced aside, then gave his aide a look that clearly said, _We'll discuss this in private._ "Good morning, Lieutenant Aeron," he said, nodding to the man who had just come out of the gym.

"G'day, Colonel," the younger man said. He had just gotten out of the shower, and a towel was draped over one shoulder. His blonde hair was a mass of wet curls. He hadn't gotten back into his uniform yet, and he was in his singlet. He started by the pair.

The colonel noticed a round pockmark about two centimetres in diameter on the lieutenant's upper arm, and said, "Forgive me for prying, but that's a curious scar."

"Huh?" Aeron came to a stop, and glanced at his arm. "Oh, that. Variola vaccine, sir. I've had it since I was a kid."

"Hum, we never had those at home."

The lieutenant looked at him. "If I may ask you something halfway personal, Colonel-where _do _you come from?" Bancroft raised an eyebrow. "It's just that I've never heard an accent quite like yours before."

"Fimbria. A backwater of backwaters. Once, when an imperial shuttle landed, the people threw bread for it." Aeron laughed. Bancroft smiled. "What about you, Lieutenant-where are you from?"

"Leto, sir."

The colonel nodded genially. "A nice place. Well, if you will excuse me, I have a chain of command to rattle. Until next time, Lieutenant." He looked to Kano, then started off. His aide followed silently.

* * *

Commander Stavan was in a good mood as he walked amid the stalls of the book fair. The event was being held in the square of a small town not an hour's drive from the base, and it was a cool, pleasant morning. He was still in full uniform, and the people around him saw an imperial commander and did not jostle him.

There were a lot of them there. The fair had attracted all manner of bibliophiles from around Leto and a few more dedicated book fiends from the neighbouring systems, and there was such a variety of people as was ever found in a crowd; on Stavan's left sat a green-skinned young punk with the hugest mohawk the officer had ever seen, blubbing over a romance novel, while an otherwise sweet-looking little old lady stood at another nearby stall, leafing through a novel by an author who wrote murder mysteries of the more gruesome sort, where the victim tended to be strewn all the way _down _an alley, if not in three of them at once. She was smiling fondly.

There were signs above the stacks and shelves and stalls. Horror...mystery...nautical adventure. Military fiction...children's classics...historical fiction...

Spotting a display of history texts at one stall, the officer went to the stand and began to scan the titles, bending more and more at the waist as he made his way down the pile.

"Looking for something in particular?" an old man's voice asked. Stavan straightened, and saw a mild flash of alarm behind the proprietor's eyes when he saw that he had an imperial officer on his hands. "...er, I mean, sir?"

"Yes, actually. If you have anything about the Clone Wars as it pertains to Mobius, I'd like to have a look at it," the young man replied.

"Hrm...I don't think..." The man scratched his head as he looked over his stock, considering. "I have some Mobian authors here, but nothing Clone Wars-related. You were wanting a history book, or...?"

Stavan shrugged. "Soldiers' accounts would be best. Journals and the like."

"You might want to look through the stalls with the rarer books, then. That's one there." The old man pointed, and Stavan glanced over his shoulder. There was a stand selling what looked like mostly old and used books. He turned back to the man. "I have nothing of the sort here, sir."

"Let me see the books by the Mobian authors," Stavan said, on impulse.

After some rummaging around in the volumes surrounding them, the old man laid six books on the counter, lining them up so that the titles and author names faced the commander.

Stavan examined them in turn, looking carefully at their covers and reading the synopses on their backs. There was a romance novel, two thrillers, one medical drama, some dry-looking slice-of-life thing, and a fantasy novel. He paused at the latter, looking down at it with a frown. It was a paperback, and a doorstopper of a book-it looked about 900 pages or so. A silver cover, with the title set in blue. _The Prince of Wolves._

"Is there something wrong, sir?" the proprietor asked, after a long silence.

The commander came back to himself. "What?"

"You were staring at that thing for a rancor's age." The old fellow nodded to the book in Stavan's hand. "That one...that's a pretty good one. He went digging deep into Mobian mythology for the setting, so I heard."

"I'll take it," Stavan was surprised to hear himself say.

"Fantasy fan, huh...I never would have guessed..."

After he had paid for the book, the officer tucked it under his arm and then went wandering over to the rare book stall. He took his time looking through the volumes, shifting the piles of books around as he checked each title, all while the vendor kept a wary eye on him.

_J. London, _he thought, reading the cover of the book he held. _Strange name. _He set the book down along with the others. He was done here; there was nothing at that stall. Perhaps the others would have what he wanted.

There were two other stalls selling unusual books. At one he found two journals about the battles fought against the CIS on Mobius, one of which was written by someone named Arturo and the other by someone designated as Rho-Seven, which were delights to find and he hoped that they would be useful, and at the other he found a set of volumes having to do with the Clone Wars. He purchased only the 'M' volume, a fact which surely annoyed the vendor, but she didn't say anything about it and only let off a vague air of disapproval as he paid for his purchase.

Now he stood by the fountain at the very centre of the square, considering whether he had the time to give the other stalls a quick check-through or not. The four books in his arms weren't getting any lighter, but he hardly dared to put them down for fear of them disappearing. Irrational or not, he didn't want to let them go.

He started toward another stand, but he had not gone far before he caught sight of something that made his blood run cold. A landspeeder, one of the ones they used back at the base, was coming quickly down the street toward the square, and from where he stood Stavan could make out the forms of two Stormtroopers. A third figure sat behind them. An officer.

Cursing mentally, he took a few steps back, and his hip collided with something hard. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that he had bumped into a trestle-table that had been set up near the fountain. There were blank journals and letter-paper and ornate pens there, as well as other, similar things. He looked back to the troopers and the officer, who had parked at the side of the street and were now getting out of the speeder. The troopers weren't his. They were two of the ISB Stormtroopers Diehl had brought with him.

And the officer...

...it wasn't the major. Instead, it was Stavan's aide. The commander's blood resumed flow when he saw that, and he breathed out. He may not have trusted Gandt overmuch, but the lieutenant was neither sadistic nor given to many displays of imperial force, both traits that Stavan suspected Diehl possessed. Right now, as he watched them elbow their way through the crowd, Stavan was glad for that.

They hadn't spotted him yet. Turning back to the trestle-table, he said to the vendor, "I'll take that journal. Quickly, now. Thank you." He paid for the blank journal, tucked it safely between a diary and the textbook, then went to meet the imperial troops.

The presence of the ISB Stormtroopers instead of the base troopers unsettled him a little, but he didn't show anything beyond cool unconcern as he said to Gandt, "I had assumed you would be staying back at the base, Lieutenant."

"We are here to accompany you, Commander," Gandt replied. "You should have an escort."

"I don't need an escort."

Gandt's eyes flickered briefly toward the two men currently flanking him. "On orders of Major Diehl, sir..."

Stavan understood. He had told his aide that he would be away for the rest of the morning, but Diehl had been busy with something and the two of them had not spoken. These Stormtroopers had probably been ordered to disregard any conflicting orders that Stavan gave them. The ISB major could hardly have him sneaking around behind his back, and his men were there to remind Stavan who was the one holding the cards between them.

"Understood," he said. "But my business here is done. We're returning to the base now."

* * *

"Are you always so distracted by such trivial things?" Major Diehl asked him, once the group had gotten back to the base. They stood in the corridor outside of Stavan's office. "Don't think I don't talk to your men, Stavan-apparently you've been rushing off for weeks, seemingly randomly?"

"All on investigation," the commander replied, holding the books to his chest.

"Sure," said Diehl. His eyes moved down. "What are those? Let me see." He held out a gloved hand.

Stavan handed him the books. Diehl looked them over, raising an eyebrow at the battered journals and the _M _volume. He slipped an uninterested eye over the third journal-the one that was blank inside-and then smirked at _The Prince of Wolves. _"A bit of light reading?" he asked sarcastically, balancing it on his palm. It really was a big book. He snorted. "I hadn't taken you for a unicorn-fancier, Stavan. Will wonders never cease."

Then he handed the texts back to the commander and said, serious again, "You should be concentrating your efforts on locating Canaida and the other core planets, not wasting your time with this. Mobian history is not going to help you find Rathbone and the others."

Stavan did not have a reply to that. Diehl continued, "Just see to Kaine and make him talk, is that clear?"

Stavan nodded his head. "Yes, Major," he said.

* * *

Lieutenant Verdan and his men were waiting for the knight and officers on the landing pad, all standing at attention. A cold wind had sprung up and the chill gusts whipped at the lieutenant's black uniform and hair, but he stood stoic as always, the Stormtroopers around him no different.

These were not the same soldiers he had been assigned when he had served under General Kordis; the six men and two women with him now were the only survivors of the disaster at Nebelland, the group designated as the Revenants. They had been through Hell itself on that misty planet, and it had forged them into something stronger than iron. Since their rescue, they had not left Canaida. Now it was time.

Captain Rathbone did not seem to even feel the cold as he crossed the pad to where the shuttle was docked, though at his side Major Kaine hunched up against the biting wind, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his greatcoat. On the other side of the captain was Erril Kaven, bundled in dark grey robes; like his commander, he did not seem to notice the cold overmuch. His attention was inward. Behind them was Lieutenant Barrie, breathing warmth into her cupped hands as they walked, accompanied by her own squad of Stormtroopers.

The captain nodded to Verdan, and they boarded the shuttle.

Once inside, they took their seats. Kaven sat down between Kaine and one of the troopers. The gesture did not escape Captain Rathbone, who had expected the Jedi to sit beside him, or, failing that, with Barrie or one of the other women. Normally Kaven was something of a flirt, but right now that seemed farthest from his mind. It was unusual for him. But then, Kaven hadn't been his cheerful self lately.

Captain Rathbone drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat. _There must be something bothering him, _he thought. _Perhaps I should talk to him-no. Demarco. He likes Demarco, surely he'll be more forthcoming with him than with me._ _I'm...very little to him. Only his commander._

He tugged at his collar, feeling restless. At his side, Barrie leaned over. "Something wrong, Captain?"

"No, I'm fine," he murmured. But he wasn't. There was some nameless thing gnawing at him, something subtly tainting his thoughts, something seeping into him.

...something seeping...

He stiffened. Turned his head and looked at Kaven. Thought: _**No.**_

* * *

The deor were large, elklike creatures native to Leto's northern hemisphere, with short, coarse brown fur and antlers. The Letoans had many uses for them, some of them culinary and some of them equestrian, and they were common things to see grazing or running in the pastures outside of the towns.

With the hesitation of a man who had not spent much time around farm animals, Erich Stavan reached out and patted the neck of the one standing by the corral fence. It stared at him with dark brown eyes, and chewed its grass, and completely failed to kick him. The officer relaxed.

"That one must like you," a woman's voice said. "He tends to bite strangers."

Stavan took a very quick step back from the deor and looked around for the speaker. There was a woman in a checked blouse walking towards him. She wore a slouch hat over her fair hair, and she looked somewhere in her mid-forties to him, although it was rather hard to tell in the shade of the hat brim. She was an attractive woman, in any case, in a very rancher kind of way.

"I'm here to see Eira Summer," he said.

"What for?" she asked, glancing around them. They were alone, save for one of the hired hands feeding the deor on the other side of the corral.

"Personal business," he said.

"Her business is my business, sir," the woman said.

"I want to talk to her, nothing else. About _what _is private."

The woman shook her head. "It won't hurt to tell me, Commander, seeing as how I _am _Eira Summer."

His eyebrows shot up. "I was expecting someone...older."

She gave him an amused look. "What were you expecting, an eighty-year-old?"

"A fifty-six-year-old," he said, without thinking.

Summer shrugged. "Clean living," she said, gesturing to herself. "Now-what were you wanting to talk to me about?"

"Lee Rathbone."

The silence was almost tangible.

"A student at the academy on Corulag," Stavan said carefully, "I spoke with Rheas Dalen, and he said that you would know more about him than he did."

"If Dalen put it that delicately, I'll eat my boots," she told him. "Look-it's true, all right, I had a fling with a student-and you know what, I don't regret a moment of it. Now, if only the fact would stop coming back to bite me in the-"

"I'm not here about the affair," Stavan said, putting his hands up placatingly. "I'm trying to find out about the man himself-and find him, as well."

The rancher studied him. "Find him. He's alive?" The commander nodded. "So you want me to tell you what he was like?"

"Anything about him. What he did before he attended the academy. Whether he served in the Clone Wars or not. Anything."

Summer seemed to be in a better mood now than even when she had first approached him-probably from hearing that her old flame was still alive after all. "I'll tell you what," she said, "why don't you come in for a drink, and I'll see what stories I can dig up."

* * *

The Frozen Nebula wasn't too busy at the moment, and the bounty hunter Madeen was almost by herself in the cantina as she sat down at one of the tables with her drink. She sipped at the brandy for a little while, listening to the music coming from the back, then set the glass down and took out her datapad. She checked the bounty lists, scrolling through the names until she hit one that was familiar, and then two more, and then more and more.

She looked at the list of names and prices, her eyes opening wider with each successive page. Finally she put the datapad down.

_Oh, shit, _she thought. _I've got to warn those guys._

Tossing the rest of her drink down at a gulp, the Twi'lek got up and went to the counter. "Not staying?" Diva asked, as Madeen put the glass down before her.

"Not tonight," the bounty hunter replied. "I just remembered I've got to meet with somebody."

* * *

"Dalen said he was an exceptional student," said Stavan.

Eira Summer let out a low whistle. "Coming from Dalen, that's a pretty high compliment." She was sitting across from the commander, at the kitchen table in her own house. A tumbler of whiskey sat half empty before her, and a slightly fuller one sat before the younger man. "But, oh yes, Lee was an exceptional one. From the time he came to the time he left, he was a man apart."

"He was different from the others, then? Strange?"

She nodded. "Yes. In a good way, mind you. It's true that he didn't have any connections like the other students, but that also meant that he wasn't pulling social rank on anybody, or name-dropping, or bragging, or any of the other things rich brats get up to." Summer shook her head, smirking a little. "Listen to me-I talk like I'm not one of those brats myself. Anyway, he didn't seem to have the huge sense of entitlement some others had. It was a nice change to see a humble student for once."

"I've heard it said that he was very cold-hearted," said Stavan, carefully.

"Dalen, again?" He nodded. "No. He wasn't. He just kept to himself. He never really talked about himself much-he told me a little story here and there, but never about anything during or after the Clone Wars." She took a sip of her drink. "I figured, well, with how hard Mobius got hit, he just didn't want to talk about it-just leave it behind him. So I didn't ask. He'd tell me if he wanted to."

"Do you know if he served in the Mobian Youth Militia or not?" She shook her head. "What about after the war ended?"

"He said he travelled a lot, but stayed on Mobius."

"But he had combat training before he went to the academy."

Summer grinned. "Oh, yes. He was something to see in action, all right. Very fast. Very strong, too, in a very..." she paused to think of how to describe it, "...natural way. As in, not cultivated in any gym."

"How exceptional was he, physically?" Stavan asked.

"Where are you going with this, mister?"

The commander raked his fingers through his hair. "I...I don't know. Back to his character. How did he get along with the other students?"

"Neutrally, I suppose," Summer answered. "He never got close to anybody-except me, I guess-but there were a few he spent some time with, and a few he was mortal enemies with. He was always polite, but he wasn't very outgoing. Still, he was popular with...certain company."

"Don't follow," said Stavan, who had begun to feel like there was something that he just wasn't seeing.

"Women," Summer clarified. "He was very attractive, Commander. He was tall and mysterious and quiet, polite, gentlemanly, but there was something a bit wild in him. He was secretive, and that hair and those eyes, penetrating-you understand, sir. Some of us wanted to...figure him out." She was staring off into space now, looking at something Stavan could never see. "He had a way of looking at you like you were something he had never seen before." Then the woman came back to herself, and grinned into her drink. "He'd never had a girlfriend before me, can you believe that? I thought he was pulling my leg, until...anyway, what else did you want to know?"

"Do you know about...the giant wolves of Mobius?" Stavan found himself asking.

"Giant wolves? No, never heard of them. How big are they?" The commander shook his head. "Well, I'm glad there aren't any here on Leto-I'd hate to have any picking off my deor. Now why would you ask a thing like that?"

"I don't know," Stavan said.

She put her chin on her hands and stared across the table at him. "That's odd," she said. She watched him a little longer, and then said, "You know, Commander, you seem like a nice man. Nicer than I'd expected for an imperial commander, anyway."

"Oh?"

"So...what's a nice guy like you doing working with the ISB?"

Stavan fell silent, trying to think of how to answer. After a few seconds Summer just waved her hand. "You know what, never mind. I probably don't want to know, anyway-too much information can get you in trouble."

"Yes, it can," the young man replied. It was not a warning to her, but an acknowledgement of his own situation. "But how did you know I was working with the ISB?"

"It was a guess, and you confirmed it just now. I saw some Stormies in town the other day, and not the usual ones. Something about them...smelled like security bureau to me. Hard to describe."

"Yes, I understand." Stavan got the same feeling from Diehl's men. It was sort of like...police out of uniform, or something. His men were no slouches, but the ISB troopers exuded an air of special watchfulness.

There was a long silence. He toyed with his drink, glancing around the kitchen and wondering what to say next. "What made you choose to raise deor instead of staying with the military?" he asked, eventually.

Summer shrugged. "I like animals. I wanted to do something in that vein, and my parents wanted me to join the military and fight the CIS. So I did that. I had an aunt that owned this ranch, and when she passed away she left it to me. So I did this." She pushed her glass back and forth between her hands. One corner of her mouth lifted. "It's funny, what you wind up doing. I remember Lee telling me that he had wanted to be an archaeology professor and teach at the university in Johanneston."

"Something tells me he would grade hard," Stavan ventured, with a tentative smile.

That drew a grin from the older woman. "Oh, probably," she agreed. "What about you, Commander Stavan? Was joining the Empire first on your list of careers?"

The officer's little smile faded. "No," he said, after a moment's reflection. "I wanted to go to university...but I guess it doesn't really matter, since it had been decided that I was going to an imperial academy no matter what I wanted."

"Someone decided for you, huh?"

"Mm." Stavan looked around again, uncomfortably. "Let's get off this topic. What other stories about Lee Rathbone can you tell me? Anything..."

* * *

"It doesn't look like the place has a landing site anywhere, Captain," one of the pilots said, over the intercom. "I can see a few suitable places nearby, but...you'll have to go through the gorge to get to the monastery in the first place."

"That...doesn't sound good," Major Kaine said, looking uncomfortable. The region of Torek they were currently hovering over was a great dry plain, and a canyon meandered through it, shot through with smaller gorges and natural corridors. The great river that had carved out the canyon had long since dried up, and its bottom held too many places to hide for their comfort.

"Sounds like a great place for an ambush," Lieutenant Barrie remarked. She glanced sideways at Captain Rathbone. "What's the plan, Captain?"

The older man was silent. "We ought to just leave," Kaine told him. "They can meet us at a more open location."

"I agree with Major Kaine," Kaven said softly. One corner of his mouth twitched when the captain still did not answer, and he looked away, a part of him wishing that Captain Demarco were the one heading the expedition instead.

"This place is a sniper's paradise," said Moriarty, from where he was sitting. He was one of the Revenants. The scout trooper gestured to himself. "I'd be happy to see rebels walking through that gorge, if it were me up on the ridge."

Kaine leaned closer to the Mobian. "Captain, if this is a trap, we are dead men," he hissed. Across from them, Lieutenant Verdan steepled his fingers and waited for the captain's order, but did not say anything.

"Captain?"

"Captain?"

At last Captain Rathbone stood up and said, "A moment, all of you." Without another word he went into the cockpit, and the door slid shut behind him.

"This is far too dangerous," he said to the pilots, once the portal had closed. "And I will not endanger my men. Contact the monastery and tell them to meet us on the open plains thirty kilometres from here. Otherwise-"

"_Captain Rathbone, I assume,_" a man's voice said over the comlink, and the officer halted. "_Well,_ _they did say that you tended to meet with new recruits yourself. So you've come at last, Rathbone-land and head through the gorge to the monastery. We'll hold our negotiations there._"

"I don't think so," the captain returned curtly, and nodded to a pilot. "The meeting is cancelled. Take us out of here."

"Yes, s-"

"_Your ship is within our sights, Captain. If you try to leave, we _will _shoot it down._"

At his sides Captain Rathbone's hands closed into fists. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"_You and all your men,_" the man replied. "_Once you've landed, everyone is to disembark and come to the monastery. Pilots. Stormtroopers. Officers. Everyone. Oh, and in case you think about bolting, we've got a few hostages that won't be too happy if you do._"

Black fury rose in the captain. "As you wish," he said, in a voice that also said _You are going to regret this._ "We will proceed to the monastery." One corner of his mouth lifted humourlessly. "If, indeed, we make it that far."

* * *

"We're going through the gorge," the captain said, stepping back into the passengers' compartment of the shuttle. A series of protests rose from the group. "_Quiet!_" he snapped, holding up a hand. At his tone, everyone shut their mouths. He was not a man that often raised his voice in anger. "We will proceed to the monastery for this so-called _meeting, _and we _will _be attacked along the way. I do not know who these people are, but they have taken hostages."

"Imperial hostages?" Barrie asked.

"Undoubtedly. We will be on foot, through what Moriarty so aptly called a sniper's paradise, and I want all of you to keep your eyes open. Erril and I will be on point-" Even Kaine looked ready to protest at that, but a warning flash from the captain's grey eyes stopped him, "-while the rest of you will stay close behind. _All _of us will stay together as a group. No stragglers."

"With all due respect, Captain," Verdan said evenly, "you will be far too vulnerable at the head of the group. My squad and I should be the advance."

Captain Rathbone shook his head. He gestured to Kaven, who sat staring at him through narrowed eyes. "With a Jedi as my bodyguard, I should be safe enough. No, Lieutenant; I must be visible. I-"

"You're endangering yourself," Verdan shot back, and the older man fell silent. It was insubordination; no-one in the cabin spoke for several long moments, and there was a shudder as the craft touched down. They had landed.

"I am a hostage," Captain Rathbone said quietly, "as are you all. If we attempt to leave, they will shoot us down. Our choice is between a shuttle crash and this."

"Are they...ISB?" Barrie asked. Her face had lost some colour, and it was not the only one that had.

"I am not certain. Be prepared for anything."

"All right, let's do it," said Celine Osiri, another of the Revenants under Sergeant Thorne. She drew her E-11 as she got up and followed the others out.

* * *

"Surely there's a better plan than this," Major Kaine said, once they were off the shuttle. He spoke quietly, and to Kaven alone; the two of them stood by the ramp, while the others assembled themselves in what the captain had established as the safest positions. Kaven would be with Captain Rathbone, using the Force to scout out anyone hiding in the nooks and corridors of the gorge; Verdan and his men would follow closely, providing cover for the group at large, and Barrie's squad would have their backs. Kaine glanced aside at them, then looked back to Kaven. "We don't even know if there are hostages or not-or how many," he added. "Rathbone's taking us into an ambush for the good of five or ten or maybe even none."

"The captain does what he thinks is best," the knight said, tonelessly.

"And you do whatever the captain tells you. I understand."

Anger flashed in Kaven's eyes. "He is my _captain, _sir," he said, and stalked off to where Captain Rathbone was talking to Verdan.

_I'll bet he is, _Kaine thought, his lips thinning.

The pilots came down the ramp then, and nodded to the captain. One patted his pocket.

"All right. Let's go. Be on your guard." With Kaven at his side Captain Rathbone started off, waving a hand for them to follow. Kaine moved to walk beside Barrie, between the squads, and without a word they began their journey through the canyon.

They made not a sound as they walked through the gorge. In all the crevices it was silent, and amongst themselves hardly a breath could be heard. The ground there was smooth; the river had dried to a tiny trickle of water not even a foot wide, and nothing prowled along their path.

Lieutenant Verdan was tense, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. His green eyes moved from side to side restlessly, seeking out any movements or hiding places that they could. His blaster was drawn. All but Captain Rathbone had their weapons ready, and the captain kept a hand on the blaster at his hip as well.

"Nothing," Kaven whispered to the older man. He, too, held the handle of his lightsaber in his hand, ready to ignite at any moment.

They continued on. After a few minutes Sergeant Thorne lifted a hand to his helmet. "Sir," he said. "I just heard something...sounded like rock shifting. Very quiet."

The sound amplification in the Stormtrooper's helmet would help him pick up on things out of their hearing range. Yet...if a living creature had made the sound, Kaven ought to have sensed it. Verdan glanced at the Jedi. Kaven appeared to be listening for something.

"Do you sense something, Erril?" Captain Rathbone asked.

"...No, Captain."

The captain turned and looked up the cliff face at their right. A stray breeze touched his face and blew a few strands of grey hair back. He inhaled. Without turning his head he said, "We'll keep on, then."

The monastery grew closer, looming over them with its ancient and forbidding towers of jagged dark rock. Clearly it was not a place where visitors were welcome; there were some such places across the galaxy, where the monks eschewed even spacecraft and did not include any landing sites for them. Captain Rathbone had learned his basic information about Torek and had known of the monastery, but he had not known of the monks' preferences. It angered him now to see that he had played so easily into such a trap. In the future all meetings would take place in locations under neo-imperial influence only. If there _was _a future.

Erril had not sensed anything through the Force, but there were more ways to detect a creature than through the Force alone. A foot had touched the rock that had made the little crunch Thorne had heard, and when the wind had blown just right, Lee had smelled something. He had not survived months in the caverns beneath the Stanes Mountains of Mobius by not paying attention to his surroundings, and right now there was someone keeping pace with them, keeping himself hidden from even the Jedi. The ability to cloak itself in the Force meant a Force-sensitive, like as not, and it was most certainly a Dark Jedi of some kind.

He glanced aside, to Kaven. The young man was a talented Jedi, but he needed to hone his skills with different ones. If they ever crossed swords in the future, there was no guarantee that Captain Rathbone would be the loser.

The captain frowned. That thought had come out of nowhere. The idea of he and the knight coming to blows at any time was preposterous-or at least it _had _been a month ago, but Erril had been acting strangely lately, spending too much time by himself and talking less and less-but such thoughts had begun to surface with ever-increasing frequency, and he remembered what Lady Delphian had said. If Kaven went to the dark side...the faction would follow him.

"What?" the knight asked, noticing that the captain was staring at him.

"Nothing," Captain Rathbone replied, softly. "Nothing at all." He turned his gaze aside. _I can't give the order to Demarco, _he thought. _Damn it. I can't. It's not fair. If-oh, please, __**if**__-the time comes, I must execute it myself. Execute...him...myself..._

Throughout his career in the Empire he had had to carry out orders that had truly turned his stomach, and carried them out he had, but he wondered if he would have the heart to carry this one out. But...perhaps he wouldn't. Perhaps Erril would kill him first...

_Stop thinking like this, _he told himself. It was the knight's influence again. _It won't happen. It won't._

* * *

It was nice to get out of the base every now and then, Gareth Bancroft thought, as he walked down a busy street in Vesper Spaceport. He liked the place; it was full of people and life, and conversations burbled all around him as he went.

Bancroft was a social creature. It wasn't a terrible thing for him to be away from people, but he found it dull, and a good conversation was as much a delight to him as anything. To his reckoning you never knew what you were going to hear, and any of it might turn out to be useful. In any case Bancroft knew his own charisma, and it had never been much of a problem for him to sweet-talk information out of anyone.

He passed by a few Ithorians who were talking about the latest sports game, wandered past two Twi'leks who were busy damaging the reputation of a third unfortunate Twi'lek, who was not present, and stopped in the shade to exchange pleasantries with an immensely hairy but very genial Wookiee. Afterward he stepped into a cantina. It was always warm and dry on Infel, and the sun was beating down on the world that day. He ordered an Infellian beer and took a sip, looking around him. The place was busy. _Hmm, _he thought.

An hour and a half later he was sitting at one of the tables with a couple of spacers and two of the locals, listening to them chatter away to their hearts' content. Buying three rounds in a row tended to loosen a few tongues. The officer had refrained from drinking much himself, and he was still working on his first glass of beer.

"-and then they got attacked by pirates," one of the spacers was saying. "But, get this-_imperial _pirates."

"Privateers, you mean?" Bancroft asked, reaching for his glass. The Empire did hire pirates from time to time.

The spacer shook his head. He was a strapping human man with black hair, and wore a jacket whose sleeves had been torn off, converting it into a vest that showed off his muscular arms. "No-I mean the pirates were actual imps. The pirate ship was a Star Destroyer!"

"If the imps were pirates, wouldn't that make it a St_arrr _Destroyer?" the other spacer asked. She nudged him playfully with her elbow. There was a chorus of groans at that.

_Oy, _the colonel thought. "A Star Destroyer crewed by pirates, who were actually with the navy?"

"Well, according to him they were all imps in uniform, but acting like pirates," the man said. "They jumped the ship, wrapped the tentacles around it, sucked it dry, then boarded them and took all their stuff."

"Imperial naval officers gone pirate," one of the locals said, fascinated, "pirating-I mean, _piloting, _a Star Destroyer with tentacles like a giant squid. Is that out of a storybook or what!"

"So did they get the name of this Squid Destroyer?" the woman asked.

"I don't know. But he said he got taken to see the captain, who questioned him pretty hard about everything he had seen on the fringes of the galaxy, asking after giant Star Destroyers and mystery ships and whether anyone was trailblazing out there."

"I'd be shaking in my boots to get picked up by imperials, much less imperial _pirates_," the Infellian man said. The other local, the genial Wookiee Bancroft had spoken to earlier, growled in agreement.

"I'd give 'em the Letoan fury," the spacer said, making a muscle.

Considering that Leto was currently under solid imperial rule and had been for over twenty years, 'Letoan fury' clearly wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Bancroft didn't mention this, however, and just sipped quietly at his beer. _I feel like there's something I ought to be remembering, _he thought.

Around him the conversation burbled on, moving to topics that were not half as interesting, and throughout it all the colonel stared across the table at the spacer, and could not rid himself of the nagging feeling that he was missing something.

It was getting near sunset when Bancroft returned to the base. He was off-duty, but he went back to his office regardless, intent on puzzling out more about the enigmatic New Empire faction. It could be useful to him someday.

He sat down at his desk and turned the computer on, sitting back in his chair as he waited for it to boot up.

Sometimes inspiration came without warning, and as he watched the characters flash by on the screen, Bancroft felt his personal muse snap her fingers. It twigged then, what he had been wondering about back at the cantina; it hadn't been something he had forgotten, but something that he now noticed in retrospect.

Lieutenant Aeron had a pockmark on his right arm from a vaccination he had received as a child, but as far as Bancroft had noticed, the Letoan spacer's arms had been free of marks. Or had they been?

Leaning back, Bancroft closed his eyes and put his fingers to his temples, trying to remember. He knew at least one other Letoan-Sergeant Nicholas Thorne, who had either been killed by rebels on Nebelland or executed as a deserter by the Empire; had Thorne had the vaccination scar? The colonel found that he wasn't sure. Thorne had had a tattoo on his left upper arm, in dark green ink, but Bancroft couldn't recall ever seeing a pockmark on either of his arms. But then, perhaps the tattoo had covered it.

_Hmm, _thought Bancroft. Feeling as if he had just received his assignment for the rest of the evening, he turned to the computer and went to work.

* * *

"...and after you've captured him, I want him brought here, to Leto," Major Diehl said. "And I will handle the interrogations myself." The man he was talking to over the holoprojector replied. "No, I don't care _how _old Makar is. Sixty-three or sixteen, a traitor is a traitor. And I don't want the admiral alone. Take his captain, and the captains of the other three ships as well. His entire fleet is now under arrest. The _Imperial Dawn, _the _Praetorian, _the two frigates. Every single ship. Find them."

From where he stood listening in the corridor outside, Commander Stavan felt unease seep into his stomach. Admiral Makar was an officer both well-respected and well-liked in the imperial navy, and now he was going to be arrested and spirited away to gods-only-knew-where by the security bureau, never to return. Certainly he was a traitor-everyone in the New Empire was-but that reassurance didn't make Stavan feel any better.

He turned and went back to his quarters. It wasn't even ten o'clock, but he was sick of the day. He locked the door behind him, undressed, and climbed into bed.

An hour later he was still lying awake. The actions of the ISB had not left his thoughts, and he found himself wondering how many beings had been ordered to execution over the years, and how many others still languished in the prison cells of the bureau. The ISB was above imperial law, but with the emperor dead, who was above the ISB?

He tossed and turned for a while longer, then sat up and threw the covers back. He needed to stop thinking about this. If he could not harden his heart to it, he would just have to distract himself.

He got up and went to his dresser, on top of which sat the books he had bought. He picked up _The Prince of Wolves _and looked at it. _All right, _he thought, going back to his bed with it. He settled down and opened the book, turning to the first chapter. His eyes dropped to the text and he began to read.

* * *

"Captain," Verdan said. There was a figure just visible up on the right side of the ridge nearly two hundred metres away, almost hidden but for the edge of a red cloak stirred by the wind.

"Yes, I see it," the older man replied. The lieutenant nodded to Moriarty. The sniper brought his rifle up, sighted for less than a second, and fired. The figure jumped aside, quick as lightning, and the blaster shot hit the rock at its elbow, leaving a scorch mark behind. The figure ducked out of sight.

"Damn!" The scout trooper lowered his weapon. "I never miss!"

"A Dark Jedi?" Kaven wondered aloud. He could not feel the man's presence, yet Verdan and the captain had spotted him before he, the scout, had. The knight's cheeks grow hot. He had been made to look inept in front of Captain Rathbone.

He felt eyes on him, and turned to see the captain gazing at him. "He-he hid himself in the Force, sir," the young man said.

"I suspected so," his captain replied. "As you did not feel him. Tell me, is there anyone else in this gorge?"

"Y...yes," Kaven told him, after a moment's pause. "By the monastery. A group of them. And more inside the place. Sentients..."

Captain Rathbone smiled just a little, and the knight's heart fluttered. "Well done," said the captain. Behind them, Kaine rolled his eyes. "Let's keep on."

"Are we going to fight them right off?" Verdan asked.

"I would prefer to avoid hostilities until we are out of this terrain," the older man replied. "I suspect that they would prefer as many of us alive as possible, but I would not guarantee it, particularly if they are ISB."

Verdan nodded. If their unknown aggressors were from the security bureau, it was the officers and pilots that they would be interested in; any casualties among the Stormtroopers would be no great loss to them. They wanted information, not money.

"But we can't just let ourselves be taken by the ISB," Kaven said.

"No," Captain Rathbone replied. "No hostilities until we are under cover, whether that be in the monastery or not. Once we're out of this snipers' paradise, we will take the first opportunity to overpower these people. Our code shall be 'bloody hell.' Lieutenant."

The captain had not been speaking loudly, and now Verdan passed the message along, so that each of their group knew the plan.

While they were distracted, Kaven felt a twitch in the Force, and his lightsaber blade hissed out as he leapt in front of the captain. With a swing he deflected the shot, and said, "Moriarty!"

But the command had not been necessary, for at the moment he spoke the trooper had turned an abrupt right face and fired, and there was only the briefest pause before the body of a man fell from the ridge, with a sniper rifle freefalling beside him. It clattered out of sight behind the rocks, and the body hit the ground nearby, unfortunately within sight.

Moriarty turned left with another shot ready, and blasted a man that was almost completely out of sight behind an outcropping of rock above them. The enemy sniper staggered backwards, and fell out of sight at the top of the canyon.

"I didn't even see that one," one of the Stormtroopers remarked, after no third shot came.

"It's a bad sniper that snipes facing the sun," said the scout trooper. "The light glinted on his scope for a second." He pointed to the crimson mess that the falling man had created upon hitting the ground. "Captain Splatter over there is a bounty hunter, not an imperial soldier. I saw his clothes, too."

"Bounty hunters!" said Barrie. "Then they'll be trying to _sell _us to the ISB."

Kaven tensed. "There's more coming."

Moriarty looked ready to take another shot, as were the other scout troopers, but they all gave pause when they saw a line of people, alien and human alike, running along the ridges and taking up positions behind rocks that had been strategically positioned. They lowered their weapons. The Stormtroopers did the same, as did the officers.

"_Don't try anything!_" one bounty hunter warned them, speaking through a megaphone. "_Surrender is your best option. Hands up._"

Captain Rathbone raised his hands to shoulder height, and the others did the same. _He has a plan, he has to have a plan, _Kaven thought, his hands also raised. _He wouldn't risk us like this if he didn't. Captain..._

Another group of bounty hunters were coming, these ones jogging along the bottom of the canyon. In short order they had surrounded the group. Kaven glanced around himself. There were a dozen there, and maybe a dozen more on the ridge. A rough lot; most bore visible scars and some even visible prosthetics, and all of them were armed to the teeth.

"Move," one of them said, gesturing with his blaster.

The group of neo-imperials were unceremoniously marched the rest of the way to the monastery, and when they went into the great entrance chamber of the place, they found an officer in a cream tunic waiting for them, accompanied by half a dozen Stormtroopers. The white armour and pale clothing contrasted sharply with the black rock around them. The whole room looked as sharp and barbaric as it did on the outside, with a myriad of rough tunnels leading off in all directions, and the air inside it was as cool as a tomb.

The ISB officer looked them over, then turned to one of the bounty hunters that had brought them in. "Anyone killed?" he inquired.

The answer came curtly. "Two of our own."

The officer waved a hand. "We'll distribute their pay among the rest of you once you receive it." He came closer to the prisoners, looking at them all with satisfaction. "Bring the officers to me." Stepping forward, his Stormtroopers gestured with their blaster rifles, and then pushed Captain Rathbone, Major Kaine, and Lieutenants Verdan and Barrie forward. "Cuff them." The troopers did as ordered, pulling each officer's hands behind their back and snapping a pair of handcuffs around their wrists.

The officer stepped in front of the captain. He smiled. "Well, well. Lee Rathbone, leader of the New Empire, traitor and Jedi-lover," he said. "It is _so _good to meet you in person at last."

Then he slapped Captain Rathbone hard across the face. "That was for all the trouble you've caused!" he snapped, over Kaven's protest.

Captain Rathbone turned his face back to the officer's. A bright red handprint stood out on his cheek. "A captain," he noted, looking at the officer's pips with a sardonic twist of his lips. "Is this a little joke of the ISB, then, that they should send a captain to arrest a captain?"

"_All _of you will be taken back to our headquarters, and you will talk. Your little empire is at an end, Rathbone." The ISB officer nodded toward a couple of his Stormtroopers. "Go to their shuttle. Get the coordinate-card."

The troopers nodded and started to go, but before they had taken more than four steps, one of the neo-imperial pilots reached to his pocket and pressed something through the cloth, then said clearly, "Oops."

Kaven felt something in the Force go, and a couple of seconds later they heard the explosion. "What...?" the officer said. "Go see what happened!" The troopers took off at a run.

"I'm afraid you won't be getting that card," said Captain Rathbone. "Nor our shuttle, for that matter."

The officer's face reddened, and he whirled to face the captain. This time he struck him twice; first right-to-left and then left-to-right. Blood welled from Captain Rathbone's cut lip, but when he looked at the ISB officer his gaze was straight and unwavering. _I shall remember that, _it said.

"Oh, but I have _you,_" the officer told him icily, "and sooner or later you'll talk like the rest of them."

"Keep your hands off him!" Lieutenant Verdan snapped.

"Lieutenant, you should show more respect for your superiors," the ISB captain said. He waved a hand lazily. There was blood on the knuckle of his glove. "HM-1026, teach him, would you kindly?"

One of the troopers stepped forward and cracked Verdan with the butt of his rifle, actually knocking the lieutenant to the floor. Verdan blinked as he began to pull himself awkwardly to his knees, as if he could hardly believe what had just happened. His cap had fallen off and a line of blood ran from his hairline, where a bruise had already begun to show. HM-1026 moved one leg back slightly as if he were about to kick the officer in the side, but rather than go ahead with it he looked to his own officer for confirmation. The man nodded. Verdan's breath came out in a rush as the Stormtrooper's boot connected, but he did not cry out; instead he only braced himself and waited for the rest of it.

The ISB officer glanced down at Verdan, then looked to Captain Rathbone with a small smile on his lips as if to say, _It can continue like this, you know. I'm sure you wouldn't like to see what might happen next if you don't start cooperating._

"_Enough,_" Captain Rathbone hissed.

The officer nodded again to his Stormtrooper, who reached out and grabbed Verdan by the back of his collar and hauled him roughly to his feet. The blood had reached Verdan's chin by now, and his curly black hair was in disarray. HM-1026 let go, and when the dazed lieutenant began to sag, he seized his collar and pulled him up again.

Kaven was tempted to clamp down on the officer and choke him through the Force, but knew that if he did that either the Stormtroopers or the bounty hunters would shoot him. Captain Rathbone was looking as though he wished he could do the same.

Just then the pair of Stormtroopers the officer had sent to go see to the shuttle came running in, both out of breath. "Captain Paine, their shuttle was blown up," one reported. "The coordinate-card was destroyed completely, along with the ship's computer and everything else."

"Take the good captain to his cell. I will question him myself later. And get these other traitors quartered as well." Turning on his heel, the officer disappeared into the darkness of a tunnel below the twin staircases leading to the second floor.

A Stormtrooper nudged the captain in the back with his blaster, and the older man began to walk, between a pair of troopers. Before they, too, disappeared into a corridor leading off to the left, Captain Rathbone looked over his shoulder and caught Kaven's eye. _Bloody hell, _he mouthed, and then he was gone.

Kaven looked around himself. The bounty hunters and the remaining Stormtroopers were moving to get everyone into position. Verdan had recovered by now, and his dark green eyes were narrow as he stared at HM-1026. Kaven nudged him through the Force. The officer looked to the Jedi. _Keep still, _Kaven mouthed, and used the Force to break the chain holding the lieutenant's cuffs together. Verdan didn't move. Kaven repeated the process with Kaine and Barrie, and then glanced at the rest of the company. The Stormtroopers had been made to remove their helmets, and were standing with their hands behind their heads. The bounty hunters had begun to remove their weapons, and behind them, though the open door to the monastery, Kaven could see the other dozen coming, the ones that had been up on the ridge covering their fellows.

With the Force he slammed the door shut, then broke the keypad.

One of the bounty hunters turned at the sound of the door forcibly shutting, then saw the snap of sparks at the keypad. "What the..."

"Bloody hell," Kaven said. And chaos erupted.

The Jedi hardly had to lift a finger. There were twelve bounty hunters and four Stormtroopers in the room, and there were twenty-two neo-imperials. Before Kaven's mouth had even closed Verdan had brought HM-1026 down with a flying tackle, Sergeant Thorne had cracked a bounty hunter in the mouth with his blaster rifle, one of Barrie's troopers had shot one of Paine's, Kaine had kneed a Balosar bounty hunter in the nuts, Osiri had stolen a heavy blaster from one of the hunters, and Barrie herself was sitting on the back of a Falleen whose hands had wandered a little too far while he had been taking her weapons, methodically pounding his face into the floor.

Shouting, cursing, blaster shots, and the crack of fists or blasters on flesh and armour filled the air, and underneath it all was a steady pounding, as the bounty hunters outside hammered at the door and yelled in at their comrades, who were quickly being overwhelmed.

Several seconds more and it was over; most of the hunters and all of the ISB troopers were either dead, dying, unconscious, senseless, or, in the case of three hunters that had been backed up to the wall by the Revenants, standing with their hands in the air and surrendering.

"I don't think you're being paid nearly enough for this," Del said to one of the hunters. She was smiling slightly. They had gotten her blaster rifle, but not her combat knife, and she was fingering it.

"We're more trouble than that," Osiri added. She was holding a blaster that seemed almost too big for her.

"We weren't chosen for the 777th for our good looks alone," Moriarty said. He had a pistol in each hand.

"All right, you lot; stop scaring them," said Corporal Hopkins. "They're on the verge of wetting themselves as it is."

"Oh, that's no fun at all," the sniper replied. Then, without taking his eyes from the hunters, he called, "Hey, is my helmet lying over there?"

Lieutenant Barrie let go of the Falleen's topknot and looked up at Major Kaine, who was watching them with some amusement. "What do we do with these ones, sir?" she asked. Kaine drew a finger across his throat. "Understood, Major."

"Watch it, they're going to blow the door down," said Kaven, who had been listening to the hunters on the other side of the door. "Back up." There were three blaster shots from the Revenants, one from Verdan, two from Kaine, and a handful more from Barrie and the Stormtroopers, and the group set about getting into better combat positions than they had started with, scooping up fallen blasters and helmets from the floor to arm and armour themselves with. Kaven ignited his lightsaber, and waited.

* * *

The corridor was long and dark, and three figures walked in single file down its narrow length.

"So tell me, just what does Captain Paine think he's going to get from me? The coordinates to our secret bases?" Captain Rathbone asked. The Stormtroopers in front of and behind him didn't answer. The captain didn't care; he was only covering the smaller, more important noises he was making. "I hardly have them memorized. A list of contacts, perhaps? I'm sure the ISB would love to know who I do. You've made a mistake in capturing me, gentlemen. In short order I shall be free, and you will have nothing to show for it." At last he felt the final click beneath his fingers; now he could stop this foolish rambling and get on with it.

"You're in handcuffs, old man," the trooper behind him sighed.

Captain Rathbone held the cuffs up in one hand. "What, _these _handcuffs?"

The soldier did a double-take. "Wh-" The cuffs whipped him in the visor then, and he jumped on instinct. The captain abruptly elbowed him in the chest hard enough to send him stumbling back a few steps. When the Stormtrooper in front turned to see what was going on, Captain Rathbone's boot connected with the chin of his helmet. An _urk _was jarred out of him as he fell hard on his back.

The rear trooper had been bringing his blaster to bear, but now the captain's cuffs hooked the barrel and yanked it sharply to the side as the Stormtrooper fired. The bolt went ricocheting down the corridor.

Iron-strong fingers wrapped around the trooper's wrists, twisted sharply, and he felt a jagged red pain shoot up his arm as the world spun. His helmet was pulled off somehow, and in the next moment Captain Rathbone was behind him, he was lying on the floor, and the captain's knife was out of the Stormtrooper's belt and pressed against his throat. The captain's fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling his head back, and one of his knees dug into the trooper's back.

"He won't be getting up for a while," Captain Rathbone said, nodding to the man's partner, who lay unconscious with his limbs spread. "Now. Who informed you of our presence here?"

"I, I, I don't know," said the Stormtrooper, wincing. His scalp felt on fire. "One of the prisoners, maybe."

"_Imperial _prisoners?"

"Yes!"

"How many?"

"Ten. No-nine now."

The captain's knife pressed harder, and blood showed at the edge of the blade. "Don't you know?" the officer demanded.

"There _were _ten-Captain Paine had one shot last night, he was trying to escape..."

"Where did you get these prisoners?"

"Bastion! They said they had come from Entralla..."

"Where are they?"

The Stormtrooper sucked in a breath. "Upstairs-top floor. The east wing."

"How many guards?"

He had already said too much. "Two," he lied.

There was a pause. "Well, I suppose I'll find out when I get there," Captain Rathbone replied, and cut the man's throat.

Letting him go, the officer took his blaster pistol back and straightened. The corridor was empty except for one dead Stormtrooper and one unconscious one. He shot the unconscious one, then paused, listening. An explosion had sounded. There was a battle going on in some other part of the monastery, and even from here he could hear screaming and blaster fire. He hoped that the others would have everything under control by the time he came back with the prisoners.

He started down the hall at a run, his boots making no noise on the stone as he went.

* * *

After the battle had finished, it was dead silent in the chamber. Bounty hunters and Stormtroopers lay dead on the floor, riddled with blaster wounds, and at Kaven's feet a Trandoshan lay hewn nearly in half, a resulting of attacking the Jedi head-on with a pair of daggers.

Kaven extinguished his lightsaber. "Any of ours dead?"

Barrie looked over her men. "Berkeley..."

A white-armoured arm flailed skyward from where a Stormtrooper had been lying otherwise motionless. "No, wait, he's alive," she amended. A couple of other troopers helped the fallen man to sit up.

"You all right, Berk?" one of the men asked.

"My leg...I got shot in the leg..."

"All of us are alive," Sergeant Thorne said, sweeping a hand in the direction of the Revenants.

"Seems all of us are all right," Kaine mused. Behind him, Berkeley moaned. "More or less," the major added. He turned to Kaven. "Anyone else coming?" The Jedi shook his head.

Kaine opened his mouth to say something else, but Kaven got there first. "We'll take a few minutes to rest up and see to everyone's injuries while it's still safe," the imperial knight said.

"Yes, sir," Barrie replied.

The major hid his anger. With Rathbone gone, _he _was the highest-ranking officer in the group, and it was not up to Kaven to be giving the orders. "Check the bodies of those hunters as well," he ordered. "There might be something useful on them."

Rifling through a dead bounty hunter's backpack, Barrie found a first-aid kit. She tossed it to one of her Stormtroopers, who went to attend to Berkeley. A few other medpacks were found with the other hunters, but for the most part what they carried were weapons, spare clips, and holoprojectors.

Thorne offered a bacta patch to Verdan, but the lieutenant shook his head and pointed to one of the other Revenants, Gavin, who had been more or less tenderized by a four-armed bounty-hunter. "Give it to him. He needs it more than I do."

"Sir." Thorne went back to his trooper, a look of satisfaction stealing across his face for just a moment. He knelt at Gavin's side. While Thorne applied the patch, Moriarty looked over at Verdan curiously, and then back to his comrade.

One of Barrie's troopers and a pilot were looking over a pair of blasters that one of the hunters had been wielding. "We should take these with us," the Stormtrooper said. "They're good." He glanced over the weapons lying on the floor. "We ought to take as many as we can."

"We always need supplies," the pilot agreed. "Speaking of which, I hope we can find a ship to get us off-planet, and soon."

"Well, the bounty hunters probably didn't carpool their way over here..."

"We'll take all their ships, then. We're good at that." The pilot nodded. As small and illegitimate as the New Empire was, it didn't quite have the funding for supplies that the Empire at large did, and a bit of healthy piracy had become a part of life among the neo-imperials. The pilot brightened as he thought about what kind of ships they might find on Torek. "Maybe there's an ISB operations ship. _That _will have lots of goodies on board."

Near the stairwell, Kaven was examining the knives that the Trandoshan had attacked him with. Curved twin daggers, each with a blade about twenty-two centimetres long and a brilliant-cut pyrope garnet at each pommel. They were cortosis alloy; not good enough to short out his lightsaber, but they would probably stand up to a few cuts from it. The alien had never gotten the chance to test that, though. The knight slid them back into their sheathes, which he then unhooked from the hunter's belt. Better that anything made with cortosis be in _their _hands, he thought.

He rose, feeling something coming down the corridor that opened between the stairwells. He handed the sheathed daggers to a nearby Stormtrooper, then said, "I'll handle this. Stay here until I get back."

Taking the lightsaber from his hip, the Jedi launched himself into the darkness of the corridor.

* * *

The upper west wing of the monastery was home to a line of small, mostly-bare rooms where the monks slept ordinarily, but while they were away on the pilgrimage that they undertook at this time each year, it had been converted to an informal prison. The monks were unaware of this, and when they returned they would be furious at this invasion of their sanctuaries, but they would not be back for many days yet, and for the time being it was safe for the imperial troops that occupied it.

Theoretically, anyway.

The prisoners had been put in every other room to stop them whispering through the walls to each other, and every four doors or so a Stormtrooper stood watch.

The corridor was dark. The alien monks preferred the darkness, but to the humans staying there the monastery seemed like a tomb, a dank and gloomy crypt where nothing good lived. Fusion lanterns had been hung at intervals in the hallways, but they did little to dissuade the creeping dark.

A soft gurgle broke the silence of the hall, and the Stormtrooper nearest to it looked over. "Who's there?" he asked. When no-one answered, he switched on his heat vision and started down the corridor. A colourful heap lay collapsed in the corridor. When the trooper saw this he broke into a run, and knelt at the side of his comrade. The man was dead. Through the heat vision he saw something on the ground changing colour, cooling rapidly, and when he switched back to ordinary vision he saw that it was blood.

He leapt to his feet, switching back to the heat vision again and looking around. There was nothing showing up on the level with him, and for one crazy moment he wondered if it had been a ghost, some malevolent spirit haunting the monastery. The Stormtroopers had passed a few ghost stories among themselves since arriving, and he had laughed them off like the others at the time, but now...

There was a tiny crickle of rock, and then someone landed behind him.

The trooper did not have time to scream.

* * *

The nearest Stormtrooper had heard a low, liquid noise and was just turning to see what it was when he felt a stabbing pain in his neck. He caught a glimpse of a man with a pale face and silver-grey hair in the seconds before he collapsed, moving past him at a great rate; he thought to shout and warn his two comrades, but then the floor came rushing up to meet him and he knew no more.

Captain Rathbone was sprinting now. His right hand rose and fell sharply, and metal glinted in the lantern light as the knife spun through the air. It ended its flight in the throat of an unfortunate Stormtrooper, and as the last soldier moved to shoot him, the captain drew his own sidearm and fired. A black hole appeared in the trooper's breastplate just before he fell onto his back, and after a moment or two he stopped moving.

The officer stopped and put a hand on the wall as he caught his breath. Then he glanced behind him. There was a lot of blood on the floor, but Stormtroopers' armour was quite covering and the captain had had to aim for what open spots he could. If that was the neck, then so be it.

He opened one of the doors. Inside, a man in an army lieutenant's uniform threw an arm over his face, squinting at the sudden light.

"One of the ISB's hostages?" Captain Rathbone demanded. The man inside the cell nodded. "On your feet, then; is it true that you wished to defect to our faction?"

"You're...neo-imperials...?" the lieutenant rasped, his voice harsh from disuse. He climbed to his feet. "Wait...you're Captain Rathbone..."

"I am. And we had come to collect you. Tell me what happened."

"We were taken to Entralla...and went back to Bastion." The lieutenant stopped and coughed to clear his throat, then continued, "We thought everything was going to go back to normal, and then we heard that the ISB was conducting searches, looking...looking for anyone associated with the New Empire. Doing raids, arresting people..." The young man coughed again, trying to bring his voice back to its usual smoothness. "There were some of us that had only refused joining to be on the safe side...to not be hunted like you are. We changed our minds...we were under suspicion after Shanast, we were no safer than we would be if we joined. There were fifty-five of us at first...we split up trying to find you, trying to cover more ground. We never heard from the other group; we were caught by the ISB after making contact with you. We resisted...and only ten of us survived."

"Damn the security bureau," Captain Rathbone growled under his breath. The ISB had started their witch-hunts, and now no-one was going to be safe until one side destroyed the other. "We're going to get you off-planet. Come with me."

A little timidly, the lieutenant followed him into the corridor. He looked nonplussed at the aftermath of the fight. "There's so much blood here..."

"Yes," the captain said, listening at another door, "I would have used a blaster, but they're unfortunately noisy." He opened the door. There was an engineer in there, who looked momentarily spooked, but got up the moment he saw that he was being rescued. "Help me collect everyone. Take the Stormtroopers' blasters. There may be enemies here yet."

* * *

"You could have helped!" Captain Paine snapped, once the door to his temporary office had been sealed. "You could have done something! My men-"

"-are dead," Lloth Morne finished. "Due to your poor planning. I am not here to fight your battles, Paine." In the corridor outside, there was a short scream that was cut off by the _vum _of a lightsaber. The Reborn glanced at the door. "The knight is coming."

"Kill him! You said yourself that Jedi are no match for the dark side!"

Morne shook his head. "Lord Hrakis wants him alive. If I so much as touched him, he would have my head."

"What are we going to do, then? Sit here and wait for him to come in!"

The Reborn nodded toward the open window. "_I _am going to leave," he said. "What you do will be up to you. Follow me if you want to live. There is a narrow ledge outside. Climb along it and you will reach the ground safely. If not...stay and face the Jedi." He smirked. "And he is _very _angry."

Paine stared at him, speechless. Morne had changed since he and Quay had joined up with Hrakis. Before he had been a quiet, creeping sort of man, but training under the Dark Jedi had given him new skills and confidence, and self-assurance had made him seem taller. He had abandoned the orange tunic and hood of a Reborn and was now dressed in form-fitting black, with gloves and high boots and a solid red cloak. Black and red-the colours of the Sith.

The Reborn crossed to the window. The breeze ruffled his dark hair as he looked out. "Come, Captain," he said. "If you wish for a tomorrow."

He climbed up onto the sill and jumped out. On the other side of the room, a gold lightsaber began to burn through the door. Paine fairly leapt for the window, but when he saw the long drop his stomach knotted and his hands clasped the sill until his knuckles turned white. Far below already, his red cloak streaming, the Reborn was jumping from outcropping to outcropping with supernatural grace, propelling himself from a gargoyle's head to a waterspout and onward, going down, down, down.

Paine listened to the sizzle of the lightsaber for a second more, and then said, "All right. All right. All right..." He climbed up onto the sill, and then eased himself down onto the ledge, trying not to look down at the two-hundred metre drop. The winds around the building were stronger than he had expected, and he clung for dear life to the sides of the window. He took a shuffling step to the side. A gust took his cap off. His dark hair streaming in the wind, Captain Paine looked down.

Vertigo hit him, and he pressed himself tight against the side of the building, his cheek to the dark stone and his eyes shut tightly. _I can't do this, _he thought. Images of himself falling, dashing against the rocks and just _breaking _like a clay doll assaulted his mind.

He cracked open an eye and looked at the ledge. It was maybe fifty centimetres wide. All right. That was good enough to walk on. He took another sidestep. Oh, the _winds _up here...

"Long fall, isn't it, Captain?" he heard someone say. He almost lost his balance at that, and in fact he wobbled dangerously, but something invisible gently pushed him back up against the wall. He looked, and saw a man with wavy brown hair leaning on the windowsill. A handsome man, if hard-looking, with light green eyes. The Jedi. The imperial Jedi.

Paine took another step, his fingers questing for a handhold and his eyes locked on Erril Kaven. _He's going to push me off, _he thought. He would smash on the outcroppings, break on the rocks, shatter when he hit the ground. So many creation myths said that men were made of clay. His eyes shut tight again. Made of clay...

"Come back inside," Kaven said. "You're _terrified _of heights."

"No," Paine whispered. "No, no, no." He made to take another step, but the ledge suddenly crumbled where his foot might have fallen.

"That was for all the trouble you've caused," Kaven said. His smile was not very pleasant. "Come on, Captain. Fall or face the Jedi." He held out his hand.

Paine stared at him, his heart beating fast. Then he reached out and took Kaven's hand.

The Jedi dragged him back inside the room, then threw him against the wall. Paine's back struck the stone, and then he fell to the floor in a half-sitting position. Kaven seized him by the front of the tunic and hauled him up again, pinning him to the wall. "Where are your commanders?" he demanded. "How did you find out about this mission?"

"Ergh...we...interrogated a bunch of...soldiers, picked up from Shanast..."

"How many?"

"This bunch...twenty-some..."

"_This _bunch? There are others?" Paine didn't answer. Kaven thumped him against the wall. "_Are there other groups held by the ISB?_"

"Y-yes!"

"Where!" The captain shook his head. The knight passed a hand before his face. "You will tell me where they are."

"I will tell you where they are," Paine repeated. "I, I heard...Mernall...That's all I know! Really!"

Kaven stared at him. "Where are your commanders?" When the ISB officer refused to answer, the Jedi used the mind-trick again, not caring how hard he had to tear into him to make it work. "You will tell me where they are."

"I will tell you...where they are." Paine seemed dazed by the force of it. "...Mustafar. They're on Mustafar."

The knight smiled darkly. "Thank you," he said, igniting his lightsaber.

* * *

"Captain!" Lieutenant Barrie exclaimed, getting up from where she sat as a tall, thin figure emerged from a corridor on the far left. "You're all right!"

"Yes, quite," the older man replied. His cap was missing and his hair had fallen over his forehead, but he appeared unhurt. He was holding his blaster pistol in one hand, and there was a group of nine people flanking him, a group which looked to a man (or woman) both bedraggled and elated. "These are the hostages. We will be taking them with us back to the UR." He looked over his own troops. "Has anyone been killed or hurt badly?"

"No one killed, sir," Verdan replied.

"Berkeley was shot in the leg, and he's the worst off," the female officer added. "Everyone else is all right."

"Where is Erril?" the captain asked, looking around.

"Right here, sir," said a voice from the stairwell. The older man turned. Kaven had just emerged from the hall between the staircases. "I took care of Paine. There was a Reborn here, too, but he got away."

Captain Rathbone hesitated, then turned away from Kaven to face the group at large. "In any case, the hostages were all right."

Kaine glanced at the tattered group following the captain. Five of them were holding blaster rifles. "Now that we've established that everyone's fine," he said, "We'd better start thinking about how to get out of here. In case you forgot, we have no ship."

"There are the bounty hunters' ships," one of the freed hostages said. He wore an engineer's uniform. "There's a tunnel going up to the plains, and the ships are docked up there. There's an image projector making them look like part of the terrain from the air, but they'll be visible from ground level. There are eleven of them, and the ISB ship, too."

"Consider those ships ours, then," Captain Rathbone said, grimly.

"How are we going to get back home?" Celine Osiri asked. "We only had that one coordinate-card."

"We'll go to some imperial-aligned planet-Odaris, how about-and call for a pick-up," the captain answered. "I'll contact Snake-Eyes, tell him what happened, and he'll send someone."

"Odaris is on the arse-end of space," someone said.

"All the better to not get caught. For added security, we have the ISB ship." Captain Rathbone shrugged. "It will discourage investigation. As far as anyone else is concerned, _we _are now ISB officers."

Kaine sighed. "They always told me I looked good in white."

* * *

They gathered up all the weapons and supplies that they could carry between themselves, and bore them to where the ships were docked. They spent some time investigating each of them, and were pleased to find extra credits and munitions along with spare bits of equipment like grappling hooks, ropes, tools for ship repair, and medical kits. The bounty hunters' ships ran the gamut of small ship types, from an old Aethersprite to a _Firespray-_class patrol ship, but it was the security ship that was the true treasure. On it they were delighted to find spare suits of Storm- and scout-trooper armour, as well as security bureau uniforms, civilian clothes, about forty thousand credits, and some blaster types that weren't strictly legal.

After divvying up everyone's place settings with some discussion, a couple of arguments (and one round of rock-paper-scissors when both pilots decided they wanted to fly the Aethersprite), they boarded the ships and started off, all of them wanting to be gone from Torek as quickly as possible.

Odaris was their destination; it was a small, pleasant place that was a little backwater and remarkably old-fashioned, but most importantly, it was not an important or tightly-patrolled imperial centre, and they would be able to pass without much scrutiny.

Now Captain Rathbone finished dressing and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He cut a dashing enough figure in the cream tunic, he supposed, but right now he looked more harassed than sinister. He ran a comb through his hair, and then went back to where Kaine and Kaven were waiting in the sitting area of the ship.

Both wore the cream tunics of the ISB. The Jedi looked handsome indeed in the bureau's uniform, but something about him struck the captain as not quite right. There was a

_(dark)_

strange feeling coming off of him, stronger than it had been earlier that day. Trying not to think about it, the captain went to sit with them.

"Paine said there was another group being held on Mernall," Kaven said. "I don't know if they're from the same cloth as this lot was, though. He also told me that his commanders are currently on Mustafar."

"He told you so willingly?" Kaine asked, adjusting his tunic.

"I mind-tricked it out of him." Kaven looked to Captain Rathbone. "Captain, about Mustafar..."

"Yes...we'll deal with Paine's superiors soon enough," the captain replied, rubbing his temple. "You did well to get this information, Erril. Thank you."

The knight just acknowledged the thanks with a curt nod instead of his usual smile. Kaine looked at him and ran his finger along his lip in thought.

* * *

The twelve ships shot through hyperspace, among them a Letoan light freighter that now carried the Revenants and their officer.

"You doing all right, sir?" Del asked of Verdan. The lieutenant was stretched out on a cot in the crew's quarters, with one hand behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling in thought. He hadn't spoken for the better part of an hour.

"Yes," Verdan replied. He was in his black t-shirt now; his tunic and cap hung on a peg on the wall nearby. He had washed the blood from his skin, but the bruise at his hairline was a dark and painful-looking purple blotch edged with yellow. There was probably another one at his side, courtesy of HM-1026's boot. "Just a headache."

"We were lucky," she said, after studying him a moment. Then she got up and left, closing the door behind her.

The Stormtrooper went into the hold, where Moriarty and von Hammerstein were looking through the containers and crates held there-at least, von Hammerstein was looking, only his lower body visible as he delved deeper and deeper into the depths of a great crate, and the sniper was sitting on one of the other crates looking over his rifle. Moriarty's helmet was sitting at his side, and his narrow, vulpine face had a thoughtful look.

"The lieutenant's all right," she said, taking a seat at the base of a pile of boxes.

"He really gave it to that guy once Kaven yelled bloody hell," von Hammerstein said, his voice muffled.

"I'm starting to think Verdan might be okay for an officer," Moriarty commented. "I saw what the sergeant did there, with the bacta patch."

"Bancroft was like that too," Del warned.

"Not in the end," von Hammerstein replied, amid clinks and clacks. He straightened, and turned to them. He had taken his helmet off earlier, and his brown hair still stuck up in spots. "The colonel probably did it for his image. We'll just have to wait and see about Verdan."

The other Revenants nodded.

* * *

The pale blue image of a cloaked man appeared, kneeling on one knee. His head was bowed. "_Lord Hrakis,_" he said, his holographic image flickering. "_Rathbone and the others escaped on Torek. Paine and his men are dead._"

From where he sat before the holoprojector, the Dark Jedi cocked his head. "And yet," he said, "you do not believe that you have failed me. Tell me, why is that?"

Lloth Morne looked up, daring to smile. "_The Jedi has darkened, Master_," he answered. "_Soon he may cross over to the dark side, and then he will be ours._"

Hrakis smiled back, showing rows of sharp teeth. "Perhaps all he needs, then, is a little...push," he said. "Very well, Morne. Return to Leto for the time being."

The Reborn bowed his head again. "_My lord,_" he said, and faded.

* * *

The ramp came down and Captain Rathbone disembarked, followed by Kaven, Kaine, Barrie, and a party of Stormtroopers. They had come down on one of the landing pads attached to a grand hotel in Anatar, an Odarian city of middling size, in which they had agreed to stay while they were waiting for their Canaidan passes. Each group would arrive at the hotel at different times, and those in the hunters' ships were to be in civilian dress to allay suspicion; after all, the ships were not at all the usual rides of imperial personnel on duty.

A movement caught the captain's eye, and he turned to see an Odarian in red robes hurrying down the walkway towards them. The alien's head bobbed on its long slender neck as it came, and it was managing a good turn of speed despite its stumpy, bullet-shaped body. "My lords," it said with a bow once it had closed with them, for this was how Odarians greeted those they did not wish to offend, "your presence is an unexpected honour in my establishment."

"_Fer mut'ala,_" the captain replied, waving a hand. The reply did not translate well into Basic, but it was a polite deflection of the honour back onto the Odarian, and it was one of the few bits of the language that the officer knew. "My men and I wish to stay the night in your hotel."

The alien's head bobbed. "Yes, of course-" its dark eyes sought out the officer's marks of rank, "-Commander. Only the best of rooms to you and your men." Its tone had become a little more genuinely warmer, owing to the unexpected courtesy reply it had received. "How do you wish to be quartered?"

Much later, once everyone had landed, checked in, and been shown to their rooms, the captain contacted Snake-Eyes.

The image of the hacker formed. "Fenn-" the captain began.

Snake-Eyes started. "_HOLY-_" His image jerked backward, crackled, and then disappeared. A couple of seconds later another figure formed, this one that of Lugosi Gammell, straightening as if he had just picked the holoprojector up off the floor.

"What just happened, Gammell?" their commander asked, tiredly.

"_He fell out of his chair, sir._" The lieutenant glanced over, then added, "_He saw the uniform before he saw that it was you. What happened, Captain? You've been out of contact for hours. We were getting worried._"

"We were ambushed before we even landed, and the security bureau's hirelings had been waiting for us. I'll tell you more once we've gotten back. In any case, we were forced to scuttle our craft, but we now have eleven personal ships in addition to an ISB operations ship. We also have nine new recruits, who had been hostages. However, we have no pass." Snake-Eyes' image now appeared beside Gammell's. "We need a ride, gentlemen."

"_Where are you?_" the head of intelligence asked. The captain told him. Snake-Eyes' nose wrinkled. "_That's awfully remote, Captain. But give us a couple of days and we'll be there._"

"You're a lifesaver," Captain Rathbone told him.

After he had put the holoprojector away, he sat down on the bed with a sigh, looking at the opulence around him. He would have been satisfied with a plainer room, but the Odarian had insisted on giving him a first-class suite, which he had not refused out of concern for his image, however temporary it was.

The hotel room was richly furnished and decorated, spacious, located on the top floor, and if he were to draw back the red velvet curtains of the great window on the far wall of the bedroom, he would see the edge of the city and the countryside beyond it. A pretty view, but the captain was in no mood for landscape-gazing. He took out his comlink and contacted his officers. "Tell the men we'll be here a few days," he said. "They may leave the hotel at their leisure, but remain in contact at all times, and stay alert." He remembered something else. "And get Berkeley to a medical clinic, so that a doctor can see to him properly."

He slid the comlink back into his pocket and fell back across the bed, so that he lay with his limbs spread, looking up at the ceiling. He took a mental step back and looked at how the last while had turned out, but before he could loose an appropriately loud groan, there came a squiggle from the comlink. He drew it again. "What is it." He listened to the question. "Yes, go ahead and order all the room service you like, it's on the ISB."

He put the comlink back again, and threw an arm over his face. Now the groan came freely, and it was a good one.

* * *

_A few days here, hmm? _thought Major Kaine. He lay on his stomach, half naked and purring contentedly as a pretty Twi'lek masseuse rubbed away all of the day's tensions. _That would give me enough time to get in contact with Stavan and see about getting back into the Empire proper. _It was not a moment too soon, either, if the ISB had begun to haunt their steps. Kaine wanted none of that.

"Your shoulders are so tight," the woman remarked. Her warm, oily fingers worked at a kink near the nape of his neck. "It must be so stressful, working for the security bureau."

"Mm. It's an adventure every single day," Kaine murmured. He had missed this sort of thing; the parties and gatherings, the staying in grand hotels and dining in fine restaurants. There was a great deal less luxury to be had in the New Empire; they tended to be on a strict budget, for one thing, and in the UR they hadn't encountered any planets with a good sentient population, for another. Major Kaine liked being pampered, but Captain Rathbone was as austere as anyone that had ever come from that icy rock he called home, and he probably saw things like this as a needless extravagance. _Kaven _seemed like he could be fun in the right circumstances, but lately he had taken to moping around and casting longing glances at Rathbone when he wasn't off sulking about something. Even now he was probably a heap of Jedi misery in his room. Kaine felt sorry for him. _Why don't you go keep your knight company, Captain, _he thought. The Twi'lek had begun to hum softly. _I bet that would brighten him up a little._

A mental image came unheeded at that, that of the good captain in a masseur's uniform, chattering away merrily to the Jedi as he rubbed Kaven's back. Kaine snickered.

"Oh! Are you ticklish?" the Twi'lek asked.

The officer smiled up at her. "Just a little."

* * *

Lieutenant Barrie sank into the hot bathwater with a sigh, not stopping until the water line was nearly level with her nose. The clip she had used to pin up her dark blonde hair tapped against the porcelain as she settled down.

It was a miracle that no-one among them had been killed, that no-one else had been hurt, she mused. Maybe it had had something to do with the Force; they had a Jedi with them, after all. Maybe that was why the Rebellion had been so successful in its campaigns-the Force had been on their side, while the Empire had been stuck with the dark side.

Ambushed, caught by the ISB, groped by a bounty hunter, fighting their way out, rescuing hostages and running far, far away to wait for Snake-Eyes and his one-way tickets to neo-imperial space. What a day! But a hot bath and room service in a luxurious hotel was a good way to end it. _And _they had free run of Anatar until their ride came, which would be a few days in the running. _Maybe now the captain will take some time to relax, _she thought. She had once overheard Captain Demarco complaining to one of the other officers that the only way to get Captain Rathbone to take a break was to knock him out yourself. The captains' arguments on the matter were apparently the stuff of legends.

Well, there wasn't much to do now but lay low until their agents came with the cards, so it would be daft to not take the opportunity to rest up until then. They all needed it.

* * *

Though some of the imperials had decided to room together, for the most part their rooms were sprinkled throughout the hotel, all six floors of it. The captain had been generous to grant them what he had, and each relaxed in their own way.

As one of the 'ISB officers,' Kaven had a suite all to himself, at the Odarian's insistence. Now he lay in bed, trying to get to sleep, but it was one of those nights where every position was uncomfortable, and he tossed and turned for an hour before he finally climbed back out of the big bed, frustrated.

The room may have been nice, but it was too big for the pilot alone, and it felt empty and lifeless without another person in it. He needed someone's company-_anyone's _company, and he wished that his brother were there, or Demarco, or his old wingmates. Madeen would have livened things up, and even if Verdan didn't talk much, he always listened to what someone had to say. But Madeen was probably running down some scumbag right now, and Verdan was probably asleep in his room. Kaven still wasn't sure if he liked Major Kaine or not; the guy was kind of smarmy, but he at least chatted with him, which was one thing that Captain Rathbone hardly ever did, and Kaine would at least be company right now...but the major was probably either partying or sleeping like everyone else.

He contemplated making another token effort at getting to sleep, but scrapped that thought and just got up instead, crossing the room to the window and drawing one of the heavy curtains. Beyond the ring of twinkling city lights, the countryside was dark and the moons were up. There were three of them, in descending size; the largest was pale and silvery-white, the middling one was light blue, and the smallest had an orange tinge. He let the curtain fall back.

The captain's room was next to his; maybe he could pay him a visit? It wasn't too late yet, and if Demarco was to be believed, the man hardly ever slept.

The thought had hardly crossed his mind before a more pessimistic one eclipsed it: _Look, if he's not asleep, he's not going to be in the mood to chat. Today was supposed to be a short trip to pick up some recruits, and it turned into a disaster. The last thing he's going to want is you bugging him._

He looked around again at the room. Huge. Lifeless. Empty. He put his uniform back on and walked out into the hall, determined to find someone to keep company with.

Major Kaine was halfway down the hall, and Kaven hailed him. Kaine turned, and went to the knight. "Where are you going?" Kaven asked.

The older man flashed a smile. "There's a party of some sort going on downstairs. I'm going to go have a look."

"You'd better hope it's not invitation-only, then."

"If it is, _this _is my invitation." Kaine tapped the breast of his cream tunic. Then he studied Kaven. "You look depressed about something. You know what? The captain wants you, so why don't you go visit him?"

Kaven brightened. "He does? All right, I'll go to him, then." Wishing the major a good time, the knight turned and started back down the hall toward the captain's door. Kaine turned as well, smirking, and left.

The pilot rapped sharply at the captain's door, and when nobody answered at first he wondered if Kaine had been telling the truth, but the thought faded when the door finally opened, revealing Captain Rathbone. The older man was in his shirtsleeves, and his grey hair was mussed and fell over his brow. He was rubbing his eyes. "Hmm...?"

Kaven's expression changed to something like horror. "I woke you up? Oh...maybe I should come back in the morning, then..."

"No, no, I'm awake now," the officer replied, waving a hand. "What is it, Erril?"

The top buttons of the captain's shirt were undone. Kaven stared at the line of his throat as he said, "Kaine said you wanted to talk to me...that I should visit you."

Captain Rathbone smiled a little. "Is that so? Then by all means." He stepped aside to let Kaven in. The knight passed by him.

Kaven sat down on the edge of the bed. It was rumpled; the captain had been asleep since the late afternoon, and it was getting on into the night by now. "What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked, a little shyly.

The officer ran a hand through his hair. The dark vibes that had been coming from the young man had quieted down, and Kaven seemed to be on the verge of getting into a better mood, a fact for which the captain would have to thank the major.

"The ISB," he said, naming the first topic of conversation he might bring up with his knight, for he was still hesitant about any personal topics. Business was safe enough. He stood a couple of metres away, directly across from Kaven, who was looking up at him expectantly.

"They're after us now," Kaven replied. He cocked his head, his eyes moving up to the captain's face. He could see the little cut in his lip from when Paine had slapped him. "Are you all right, Captain?" he asked, gazing at it.

"Quite," the older man replied. He waved a hand. "I've been slapped before, Erril. You needn't worry."

"He was going to torture you."

"If I am ever caught, it is a certainty."

Kaven shook his head. "You should let others pick up the recruits. You shouldn't put yourself in danger like this."

"Aedin Demarco would most certainly agree with you," Captain Rathbone said dryly. "He's been trying to convince me to stay on Canaida for months. However, Erril, it is part of my duties to..." He paused. "...well, it's part of my duty. I must try to see who is false and who is not."

"_I _could do that," the Jedi said, standing up. "I could use the Force."

"Erril, you're still in training."

"I've done a lot for someone 'still in training,' haven't I?" Kaven extended an arm, and with a flick of the Force pulled the lightsaber he had hidden up his sleeve into his hand. He held it up. "Shanast, Captain! Two Reborn and a Jedi Master-did I disappoint you then? We got six thousand-some troops out of it, too."

Captain Rathbone looked uncertain. "You did not disappoint me, but..."

"You've never really seen me use the Force, have you?"

"...but perhaps I should not send you on such missions," the officer finished. "They're more dangerous than I had initially thought."

Kaven stared at him. Was the captain going to stop trusting him with important missions? The thought hurt him more than he had expected. "But, I'm your knight," he said softly.

"You would do well on diplomatic missions," the captain offered. "I'm sure the Stormtroopers could handle the more aggressive tasks from now on, as they form the backbone of the imperial forces..."

"No!" Kaven exclaimed. "Captain, _I _can lead a squad of Stormtroopers. You worked with Jedi before, didn't you? During the Clone Wars? Then you know that they can lead troops. Yes, I'm sure I could do diplomatic missions well enough, but-" He tossed his lightsaber onto the bed, and then pointed at it. "-right now, _that's _the only diplomacy that the ISB deserves."

"Erril, I agree with you that the ISB has it coming, but such aggression is..."

"It's warranted," the knight replied. "Captain. They're going to kill us if they catch us. What if they find out where Canaida is? Kantos? Dessim? There are civilians there, too. We've all been charged with treason, and the security bureau is not going to care whether or not we've kept our hands clean when they haul us in for torture and interrogation and whatever else they might do to us."

Captain Rathbone didn't reply.

Kaven walked across the room to where a full-length mirror stood in the corner. He looked at his reflection, and a young ISB officer looked back at him. In the background stood Captain Rathbone, looking unhappily at the lightsaber. "If we went to Mustafar," he said, "we could take out that group of senior officers, and delay their investigations as well as show them that we're not to be trifled with."

The captain picked up the lightsaber, turning it in his hands. Memories of the Clone Wars passed through his mind. The handle was curved, just like...

"Gold and silver," he heard himself murmur.

"What?" Kaven asked.

Captain Rathbone's fingers tightened around the lightsaber handle. "We _will _go to Mustafar and deal with these officers," he said firmly. "I had not thought otherwise. But you, Erril..."

"Send me to Mustafar," Kaven said. There was a slight tremble in his voice. _Don't refuse me, Captain, please, _he thought. "Let me do it. Trust me."

The captain's eyes closed. He wanted to go to Mustafar himself, but that was dangerous. Kaven's desire was dangerous as well, vengeful and aggressive, bordering on the dark side; it opened up a darker part of the captain as well, and it called to him. Abyss to abyss.

When Kaven next spoke, he was standing right behind the captain. "Let me be your knight," he said. "Send me to Mustafar."

What was the lesser of these two evils? Captain Rathbone wondered. To refuse Kaven and stoke his resentment, or to send him to Mustafar and let the dark side sink its claws deeper into him?

The older man turned to the younger. Kaven's eyes were wide, staring at him with an intensity that was not like the pilot.

_You are walking a thin line, _Lady Delphian had said to him, during their meeting on Reliquus.

_I have walked a thin line since the day I set foot in the Empire, _Captain Rathbone thought, and handed the lightsaber to Kaven. "I will send you to Mustafar," he told him.

* * *

Major Kaine met Barrie at the party in the ballroom of the hotel. Although she was in the cream tunic, dark pants, and knee-high boots of the security bureau, the lieutenant wore the uniform like it was the finest dress or robe that Coruscanti fashion designers could put out. She was sitting at a small table, enjoying the attentions of a couple of handsome Arkanians, who had apparently been pleased to see that the ISB woman had a genial personality in addition to good looks and obvious connections in the bureau.

As he walked toward them, Kaine wondered idly whether the term _gold-digger _was unisex or not.

"La, sir," Barrie said to one of the men, "I would love some more punch." He nodded and went to go get it. "Good evening, Major," she added, seeing the older man coming. "Have you seen the cap-ahem, the commander yet? He hasn't shown himself all night."

"Oh, he's getting room service," Kaine replied, and his smile bordered on an outright smirk.

"That's nice," she said, innocent of what he had meant. "He needs to enjoy himself sometimes."

"We all do," Kaine said, if anything smirking harder, "Well, don't let me keep you, Lieutenant, and have a good time." He gave her a little wave, and then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

The sky was just beginning to lighten on Leto when Commander Stavan received the transmission. He heard the small vibration of the holoprojector, set down his book, and reached across to the nightstand where he had put the device. He switched it on and was surprised to see Major Romulus Kaine. "Kaine!"

Then he blinked. "What are you doing in ISB uniform?" he asked. Oh, Diehl was going to love this one, he thought. The New Empire was slippery enough without them starting to impersonate the security bureau.

"_It's a long story,_" Kaine replied. "_But in any case, let's just say I had a chance to call you. I want to talk about my return._"

"Oh, yes." The commander straightened, wishing that he had been in uniform instead of his pyjamas when the major had called on him. "Major, I need you to get at least one of those coordinate-cards used to take ships to the New Empire's core worlds."

Kaine's nose wrinkled. "_Well, I suppose I could do that,_" he agreed. "_They don't exactly hand them out, but I could probably grab one if the opportunity arose._"

"After you've done that, we can meet at some designated location and go through with your defection. How does Entralla sound?"

The older man shook his head. "_Not Entralla. We're being chased around by the ISB, and I'd rather avoid imperial centres like that. Perhaps Lucinia would do the trick. It's a neutral zone on the Outer Rim._"

Stavan knew Lucinia by name, but he had never set foot there. It was a volcanic hotbed and a ready source of minerals like salt and sulphur, but not the most pleasant place to be. "Lucinia sounds fine. I'll meet you there with a few of my men-but when?"

Kaine ran a hand through his wavy hair, considering. His image flickered. "_I've got a few days' leave coming up in a few weeks. I'll contact you just before I leave. There's a place in the northwest hemisphere called the Black Tower...wait for me there._"

They talked for a short while longer, working out a rough plan, but Kaine was obviously not in a situation for a long, leisurely conversation like at the restaurant in Nexus City; he kept looking around, checking his surroundings as if he were afraid of getting caught, and he bailed out of the conversation once the details had been established. Once it was over, Stavan put the holoprojector down and stretched.

It was nearly four in the morning. If Major Diehl were asleep, he had probably just gotten to bed and wouldn't want to be disturbed, and the last thing Stavan wanted was to have a grouchy ISB officer on his hands.

Stavan gazed at the paperback lying on his bed. He was tired as well, but he had gotten wrapped up in the story and was some four hundred pages in already. The man running the stand at which he had bought it had been correct; _The Prince of Wolves _was a good book, a very good book. The setting was more old-fashioned than the standard, with swords and animals called horses instead of blasters and spacecraft, and the story revolved around a bitter civil war that had killed off most of the ruling family except for a young boy named Faelan, who had been lost in the wilderness early on, the boy's middle-aged aunt, who was busy defending her lands from the usurping house's forces, and a few scattered knights and soldiers. One of the surviving knights had gone into hiding for the few years that had passed since his house's downfall, and he was searching for Prince Faelan in the great haunted forest on the northern borderlands. The prince, however, had grown wild and had thrown in his lot with the giant wolves of the forest, and so far he had not been found.

The officer was tempted to pick it up again, but his eyes were tired and he hardly wanted to look at anything anymore. He let it alone and picked up the blank journal he had gotten at the book fair. Giant wolves made him think of Mobius, and Mobius made him think of Rathbone.

He took up a pen and wrote: _Rathbone, born about 34 years before the Battle of Yavin (?) Missing after Endor = went to the N. Empire, possibly found Canaida. _He paused, then scribbled: _Part of Mobian youth militia during Clone Wars (?), joined the Empire at 22-23 years old. At start of the C.W he was about 13, at end about 16. At 22-23+ he was in the Empire. From 16-22 = ?_

Stavan stared at his spidery handwriting. According to Summer, Rathbone had 'travelled' but had stayed on Mobius.

He reached out and took the fantasy novel, then flipped it open to check its publication date. When he saw it, he shut the book.

Quietly, he wrote: _Omar said Janeel the maid had said there were giant wolves on Mobius, and a kid who lived with them. Her father's friend wrote a book inspired by it. "The Prince of Wolves" was published 16 years before Yavin. This is in Rathbone's time gap._

He stared at the text. Without waiting for a command from his brain his hand, going on auto-pilot, wrote a question, then underlined it with a heavy stroke of the black ink.

_Is it possible?_

"It can't be," he murmured. "Can it?"

Then he set the journal down and rubbed his eyes. _That book's gotten into my thoughts, _he decided. _Even the people of Mobius think those wolves are myths. They're folklore! I'm overtired and the book leaked into my thoughts._

He put the books aside and turned off the light. _Nonetheless_, he thought, just before he went to sleep, _I think I need to pay a visit to Mobius, and soon._

* * *

Lieutenant Bryn Shar had just finished a routine patrol around the _Imperial Dawn _when the ship came out of hyperspace. From where she was climbing out of her TIE Defender the pilot caught a glimpse of a red, vaguely crustacean-looking ship approaching, and tensed, ready to get back into her starfighter and blast back out there at a moment's notice.

But the ship received clearance for landing, and it entered the hangar. The lieutenant watched it curiously. It was a personal ship, and not one that she had seen before, although she had heard mention that it had docked in the _Imperial Dawn_'s hangar before.

The ramp lowered, and a tall, blue-skinned Twi'lek with scars on her lekku came marching down. She stopped at the side of her ship and put one hand on her hip, looking around, clearly waiting for someone.

"_Lieutenant Shar._" The voice of the flight control officer came sudden and loud over the com in her helmet, and Bryn nearly jumped. "_Escort the bounty hunter Madeen to the admiral's office._"

"Understood, sir." The pilot finished climbing down, then reached up and removed her helmet, putting it under one arm. Brushing aside rogue strands of hair that had escaped her bun, she went to meet the Twi'lek. Madeen turned to her. She was a few years older than the lieutenant and stood at least ten centimetres taller, lekku notwithstanding, and every inch of her frame was wiry and athletic.

Bryn nodded to her. "Come with me."

The two women walked through the corridors of the Star Destroyer, and after some time the lieutenant asked, "You're doing jobs for the admiral, then?"

"Technically, no," the bounty hunter replied. "But I _would _do a few rundowns for him if he wanted me to."

Lieutenant Shar gave her a sideways look. "Weren't you the one that caught Erril Kaven after he'd gone Jedi?"

Madeen grinned at that. "Yeah. But if catching pilots in general is as much work as catching _that _guy had been, their bounties ought to be twice as much."

_Luck of pilots, _the younger woman thought, and nodded sagely.

They reached the admiral's office, and once they had been admitted they went in to find the admiral himself sitting at his desk, writing in a notebook. Lieutenant Shar raised an eyebrow. The old man usually preferred a datapad to anything else. "Admiral Makar," she said. "Lieutenant Bryn Shar, reporting as ordered. I have brought the bounty hunter."

Admiral Makar looked up. "Ah, Madeen," he said, rising. "I heard you were trying to find us. So what was so important that you couldn't send it in a transmission?"

Madeen drew the datapad from her belt as she went to the admiral, and she showed him something on it. The change in the officer's face was striking; his expression hardened, and his mouth set in a straight line. Bryn wondered what it was that the Twi'lek had shown him. "I see," the admiral said. His voice was quiet, but it was obvious that he was furious. "I'm glad you came personally, then."

He turned to Lieutenant Shar. "Lieutenant, I must speak to this woman in private. I will send for you later. For now, you're dismissed."

"Yes, Admiral." The flight officer bowed shortly, and left the admiral's office.

_Something's happened, _she thought.

* * *

"Somebody must have leaked information," Madeen said, once the lieutenant had left. "There's even a bounty for V-that is, Lieutenant Verdan-on here, too." She waved the datapad. "And these bounties are _high_. I mean, just one of the _regular _officers is almost six digits. Bounty hunters across the galaxy are going to be swarming on this, and if I didn't work for you guys, _I'd_ be all over this like a dirty shirt, too."

"Imperial bounties," the admiral muttered. He was sitting at his desk again, with his face in his hands. There were just over a hundred bounties posted for neo-imperial officers, all stamped 'high priority,' wanted alive, and even the lieutenants had pretty prices on their heads. When Lee heard about this, he was going to go through the roof.

The bounty hunter plopped into a chair across from him. "Who's got the finance to offer this?"

"My first guess would be the security bureau," the old man said, "as it is in their interests to keep fringe groups in hand, and they usually handle affairs like this." He drummed his fingers on the desktop. "Damn! If the ISB comes checking around here, they're going to find a few inconsistencies." More drumming. The admiral thought. After a while he said, "Well, bugger the inconsistencies. If they come checking around here, they're going to have a fight on their hands."

Madeen looked up from her datapad. "You're going to fight the ISB?"

"Only if I must. My fleet is a small one. Tell me, young lady, is _my _name on that list?"

"Didn't see it. Why?"

"And yet, whoever assembled this list has named Lieutenant Gammell, Lieutenant Fenn, Major Stark, Captain Demarco, and so on and so forth. These are all officers that have been gone for quite some time. More to the point, they're part of the inner circle. If the one listing the bounties knows _them, _they know _me._ I'm not on that list because they didn't want me somehow finding out that I'm wanted, too." The admiral tapped a finger on the desk. "And I imagine I'll have ISB operatives breathing down my neck any day now."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to make a few hyperspace jumps, send out a few messengers to warn people about what they might find slithering around their bases and ships quite soon...but most of all I'm going to avoid the ISB."

There was a small sound. "Wait a minute," said Madeen, "I saw guys in white tunics walking around this ship. _They're _security. Don't they have connections to the bureau?"

Makar smiled. "They wear the uniforms, but those ladies and gentlemen are one hundred percent neo-imperial," he said. "I flushed out all the real security agents a long time ago. I can't work with those people around."

"Real sneaky, Admiral." Madeen leaned forward and took his pen. "So is your fleet made up totally of neo-imperials?" As she talked, she wrote something in the top margin of his notebook. She pointed at it, then nodded her head toward the door.

_There's someone listening to us, _she had written.

The admiral's brow furrowed. "Not entirely," he admitted, standing up. He made a _blah-blah-blah _gesture at Madeen, wanting her to keep talking. "I've been replacing them gradually over the last few years."

"Captain Rathbone's going to want to see those bounty postings as soon as we can get them to him," the Twi'lek said, as the officer snuck toward the door. "They say he tends to go see new recruits himself, so with all the hunters that are sure to be out looking for these guys, that's going to be real dangerous. The captain looks like somebody that can take care of himself, but still-"

The admiral opened the door, seized the figure that had been listening outside the door, and dragged them inside with a growl. The door slid shut.

Admiral Makar looked momentarily taken aback at who he currently held by the front of the tunic. He had expected Bryn Shar, but instead it was a white-faced nineteen-year-old whose eyes were nearly starting out of his head. "_Lieutenant Fell!_" the old man roared. "_If there's one thing bigger than your mouth, it's your ears!_"

"Gyah! I'm sorry, Admiral, I didn't mean it-"

"Like hell you didn't mean it! You had your ear to the door, boy! What did you hear?" Fell gulped. Admiral Makar shook him lightly. "_What did you hear?_"

"I, I didn't hear anything-" The young lieutenant wilted under the admiral's glare, and he stammered, "-all right, I heard something about the New Empire, and fighting the ISB, and, and, bounties getting posted." Fell looked up at his admiral. "...Are you going to throw me out the airlock?" he asked, in a small voice.

Admiral Makar sighed, his gust of anger dissipating. "I'm not Darth Vader, Fell." He let go of the young man. "And I'm not Grand Admiral Thrawn, either. We _court-martial _officers on this ship, not kill them."

Fell didn't look much relieved. "I'm getting court-martialled?" In the background, Madeen snickered.

"No, you're not." The old man studied the young one. "What _am _I going to do with you, Fell? I can't have you telling stories."

"You could stick him in a cell for the rest of the voyage," the bounty hunter said, ever helpful.

"I could, at that. At least until it's all clear..."

"Oh, please no, sir," said Lieutenant Fell. "I...I'll join the New Empire, sir."

"Do you know what you're saying, Lieutenant?" the admiral asked. "Do you know that the New Empire is declared outcast and guilty of treason by the Empire proper-that we are not considered any different from the Rebel Alliance? That we will be _executed _for treason if we are caught?"

Fell nodded. "Yes, Admiral...Er...I don't really have much left here in the Empire proper, sir. My parents were both serving on Shanast, and now...well..." He dropped his gaze. "I'm on my own now, sir."

_You should always beware the ones that have nothing left to lose, _Admiral Makar thought, remembering something that another officer had told him once. _All in all, they're the most dangerous._

"Then welcome to the New Empire, Lieutenant Fell," he said grimly.

* * *

"There's a heck of a thunderstorm coming," Lieutenant Aeron said, putting his hands on the windowsill. The sky outside the Infellian base was dark, and flashes of lightning were visible every now and then. One particularly ominous cloud was visible in the distance, darker than all the rest and about the rough size and shape of an imperial Star Destroyer.

"It doesn't rain often here," said Sutler, "but when it does it's big."

The two officers had been having a drink and a friendly chat before the first crack of thunder had echoed in the hills, and now Aeron returned to the table at which they had been sitting, taking a seat across from Sutler. "So you just got back the other day," Aeron said. Sutler nodded. "Where did you go this time?"

Sutler waggled a finger at him. "That one's confidential," he said.

The lieutenant snorted. "Yeah, all right. Secret investigation and all that." He glanced over at the window again. "So...you and the Jedi. You're an item, are you?"

The older man nodded. He and Nova hadn't done anything more than kiss, but they had gotten more comfortable with each other, and he was on friendly terms with Bal as well. Nova had begun to tell him a few stories of her time with the Rebellion, and Sutler had begun to tentatively tell a few of his own.

He had kept clear of his defection story, though; _that _was territory that he didn't want to get into yet. In any case, there were whole chunks of memory missing from his time with that imperial lieutenant, and he didn't want to think about what might have happened to him during those blank stretches.

"The Jedi made quite the comeback, didn't they," Aeron remarked, taking a sip of his juice. "I mean, at the end of the Clone Wars, they were as good as extinct, and now they've got another order going."

"And the Empire wants a few of their own, now," Sutler replied, glad to be pulled from his thoughts.

"Yeah." The blonde man swirled his drink in his glass, brooding over something. "The Rebellion has had a good streak of luck. I mean the Force has been with us-_really _with us. We've even got Coruscant back now."

"I was so glad."

"Huh? Oh, right, you're _from _Coruscant, aren't you. I bet you were happy to be able to go home again."

Sutler nodded. "I hadn't seen my parents for over five years." He had gone home at the first chance he had gotten, and he had hugged his mother and father like he had never hugged them before. At that moment, all the hardship that had come of fighting the Empire had been worthwhile.

From outside the window came a flash of lightning. The door opened, and they turned to see Lieutenant Kano standing in the doorway.

"Lieutenant Aeron?" Kano asked. "Colonel Bancroft wishes to see you in his office. Immediately." Thunder cracked, sounding almost like the mythical world tree being snapped in half, and rolled through the hills. "You are to come with me, sir."

Aeron rose. "All right. See you later, Aerin." He patted Sutler on the shoulder, and then left with Kano.

Sutler touched his right cheek, glad that he didn't have the ghastly scar that crossed Kano's face. Every time he saw it he could almost feel the knife blade slicing through his cheek and into his eye, and it made him want to wince. A Stormtrooper had done it on Nebelland, while the lieutenant and the colonel had been trying to escape. They had almost not gotten away from the troopers who had been their own men not even days before.

_Such betrayal, _he thought, and outside the rain began to fall.

* * *

When Lieutenant Aeron entered the colonel's office, Bancroft was seated at his desk and waiting for him, smiling pleasantly. He gestured to an empty chair across the desk from him. "Have a seat, Lieutenant."

Aeron sat, noting that Lieutenant Kano did not leave, but remained standing by the wall next to the door...behind him. Something about that didn't bode well, but the lieutenant kept a stoic expression and gazed across at Bancroft.

_Hard to believe he did what he did, with a face like that, _he thought. The man always looked pleasant, never tired or cranky, and Aeron had never known him to be short with anyone.

"I imagine you're wondering why I called you in here," Bancroft said.

"I am, Colonel."

"Well, let's start with this. Can I assume that you've heard of the New Empire faction?" Aeron nodded. "Certainly you have. The rumours of it run rampant ever since the Jedi Erril Kaven was kidnapped-or defected, whatever the true story might be. In any case, it was _he _who killed General Telis Kord, is that not so?"

"It is, sir, I saw the transmission from the fleet."

"Do you have any idea how powerful the faction is?"

"No, sir," the lieutenant said.

"Well, neither do I," Bancroft told him. "Yet such information would be valuable, would it not? An investigation of the New Empire would reveal how much of a threat it is to the New Republic. Do you know how the Empire proper views this faction?"

"Er...I doubt they're pleased with it."

Bancroft cocked his head. "How did you come to this conclusion?"

"Well...if they're hiding out in deep space, there has to be a reason for it," Aeron replied. "There has to be a reason for all this secrecy."

The colonel sat back, satisfied. "Ahah! Clever man," he said, smiling. "We need clever people on investigation."

Aeron dared to relax a little. "Are you offering me a chance to join the investigation, Colonel?"

"If you feel up to it, most certainly. Have you heard the rumours that there was some neo-imperial activity on Leto? You were born there, I understand. But I would like to ask you something first."

"Yes, sir?" The young officer was feeling more confident now.

"That mark on your shoulder...it came from a vaccine?"

Aeron smiled. "Variola, sir. Yes."

"I see," said Bancroft. "Well, I have no doubt that you're telling the truth about the type of inoculation that you received...but the thing is, such a vaccine was never administered on Leto."

Aeron's smile froze.

"Which leads me to the conclusion that you are from a different planet entirely," the older man continued.

Aeron's smile faded.

"Yet it is stated in your file that you are from Leto. One of you, it would seem, is false."

Aeron was silent.

Bancroft was no longer smiling. "Why is there such a discrepancy in your file, Lieutenant?"

A second passed. It stretched out to two, then three. Finally Aeron found his voice. "There is no discrepancy, sir-"

"There is. There is no Variola vaccine issued on Leto because _there is not and never was an epidemic of smallpox_." Bancroft stared at him. When he spoke again, his voice was deadly soft. "Your file is falsified. _Tell me why._"

The colour had gone out of Aeron's face. His heart was pounding, and in the stark silence he wondered if the colonel could hear it.

If he could, Bancroft gave no indication. "You are an enemy of the Republic, are you not?" he asked. Aeron didn't answer. He leaned forward. "Mercenary, spy, double-agent-what are you?"

The lieutenant met his eyes, blue to blue-grey. There was iron in Bancroft's stare, and the spy no longer found it so hard to believe what he had heard about Nebelland. "I am an officer of the Republic, sir," he replied, as calmly as he could.

Bancroft snorted and sat back. "Spare me that garbage. You are a spy or a double-agent," he said. "For all I know, you're an assassin of Black Sun. So you might as well drop the pretences and tell me right now who you are."

_Bugger it, _Aeron thought. _He's really got me now. _"That kind of information's confidential," he said, dropping the Letoan accent. He'd been getting tired of it anyway.

"So was Lieutenant Sutler's mission to Ioun, which someone surely told the imperials of."

"Not me, mate."

"Ah, but the truth is in your eyes." Bancroft's grin was a shade skull-like. "And I know you've been talking to the lieutenant an awful lot since he was given his squad. We have a saying on my native Fimbria, that there _is _no such thing as coincidence."

Aeron stood up, reaching for the blaster holstered at his hip. "All right, Colonel-" Before he could draw the weapon, strong hands seized him and twisted his arms up behind his back, and he was slammed face-first onto the colonel's desk. He grunted, his cheek plastered to the synthetic wood. A pair of handcuffs snapped shut around his wrists.

Bancroft put his elbow on the desk and leaned over sideways so that he and the lieutenant were facing each other. "Judging by circumstances, I would hazard a guess that you are not only an imperial spy, but possibly even working for the New Empire."

Aeron's reply was unprintable.

"Is that really how a lieutenant speaks to his superior officer?" the colonel asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" The young man repeated himself, and this time ended it off with, "-_sir._"

Bancroft sighed. "Kano."

Kano yanked Aeron back into an upright position, the fingers of his left hand entwined in the lieutenant's hair. It must have hurt, certainly, but the spy didn't so much as wince. Bancroft sat back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "Lieutenant, take him to the detention; he is now awaiting interrogation." Kano nodded. To Lieutenant Aeron the colonel said mildly, "Be glad you're not in an _imperial _jail cell."

Kano dragged the spy out.

* * *

Major Diehl was silent as they watched the holographic recording. They sat in the major's temporary office, he and Stavan, and once it had finished the commander glanced at him, waiting for his reaction.

For a while Diehl just drummed his fingers on the desk, not speaking. Finally he said, "Hmm," and rose from his chair.

"Is Lucinia not sufficient?" asked Stavan, as Diehl began to pace. He had not learned how to read the man's moods yet, and it worried him to not know whether he was in a bad humour or not.

"That's not what I'm concerned about," the ISB officer said. "Kaine wore an ISB uniform. What I want to know is where he got it, and whether the New Empire is attempting to infiltrate the security bureau." He stopped and gave Stavan an irritated look. "You should have used that silver tongue of yours and weaselled it out of him."

"Shall I contact him again?"

Diehl waved a hand. "No. He may suspect something. But that uniform...where would he have gotten it..."

"From officers of the ISB, of course," a man's voice said, over the hiss of the door opening.

They both turned to see the Dark Jedi Lloth Morne walking in, his hard-heeled boots clicking on the floor as he came. Without so much as a look at Stavan, the Reborn went and plopped down in Diehl's chair, throwing one leg over the armrest. "Members of the security bureau attempted to arrest them on Torek...without much success." Morne drew a finger across his throat. "The ISB had an operations ship, which now belongs to the New Empire."

"How do you know this?" Diehl demanded, irritated at the Dark Jedi's manner.

Morne shrugged. "I was sent by Lord Hrakis to go collect Erril Kaven, but the prisoners escaped before I could take him."

"I would think a Dark Jedi would be enough to detain a few prisoners," Major Diehl said coolly, unable to resist a shot at the Reborn.

The shot hit home. "It would have been twenty on one," Morne said peevishly, "and a Jedi besides. I was not sent there to fight, and especially not to get shot in the back by some neo-imperial while I engaged Kaven. That was the bounty hunters' job."

"Well, while you sat back and watched the battle, I assume you had a look at who was with them?" Diehl asked. "Kaven was there. What about Rathbone? Demarco?"

"Rathbone was there." The Dark Jedi glared at Diehl, who gazed back coldly. "As to the others? There were twenty-three in total, sixteen of whom were Stormtroopers. The good captain and his men were the security bureau's concern. Kaven was mine."

"Your Lord Hrakis ought to remember that _Rathbone _is the keystone of the New Empire, not Kaven," the major replied. "Our goals would be better attained by arresting the captain, not his knight."

"Perhaps you would like to tell him that yourself?" Morne got up and made a show of stretching, then sauntered over to the door. "The Force is calling me."

"The bathroom is down the hall and to your left."

The Dark Jedi seemed to scrunch up. "_Good day, _Major," he said coldly, and left.

_Lloth Morne versus Septimus Diehl, Verbal Battle No. 7308, _Stavan thought sarcastically. _The point goes to Diehl, as usual._

Once Morne's footsteps had faded away, Diehl's fist slammed down on his desk. "Those Reborn!" he snarled. "They're as arrogant as they are stupid-don't shush me, Stavan!" he added, for the commander had raised a finger to his lips, looking worriedly at the door. "I am not afraid of Dark Jedi! If he had taken an active role on Torek, we would have Rathbone, Kaven, and twenty-one other neo-imperials in our custody today!"

He resumed pacing. "Truth be told, I would rather work with Hrakis. He has more brains than his minions do."

Stavan nodded in agreement, though he was privately glad that he _didn't _have to work with Hrakis, remembering the fright the Dark Jedi had given him after his questioning with Diehl and Sturm. The Chistori was over two metres of muscle and dark side, and he had made the officer feel very small and fragile during their brief meeting. Stavan remembered the cold feeling he had gotten from him all too well. "What does he want with Kaven?" he asked.

Diehl shrugged. "To kill him, probably. Or to make him his apprentice." He turned to Stavan, an evil gleam in his eye. "Perhaps Quay and Morne are trials for apprenticeship, hm? Take two Reborn, get one Sith apprentice for free?" He laughed at that.

"Oh, please, Major...keep your voice down..."

The ISB officer waved a hand. "Oh, very well." He sat down. Putting his chin in his hand, he stared at the slender man sitting across from him. "You shouldn't be afraid of the Reborn," he said. "They'll see that and take advantage of it at every opportunity."

"They're powerful, though. They have the Force."

Diehl smiled darkly. "So did the Jedi."

_Order 66, _Stavan thought. Something nibbled at the back of his mind, but he brushed it aside. "Yes," he said softly. "So did the Jedi."

The major sat back, putting his hands behind his head. "Speaking of the Jedi, you've heard rumours of the New Empire employing them, yes? Kaven...and quite probably his brother, seeing as how Jan Kaven is missing in action and likely Force-sensitive as well."

"Yes, I've heard those rumours. Kaine told me that Captain Rathbone was looking to establish an order of imperial knights."

"Tell me...how old are those rumours?"

"I'm not sure."

"They predate Kaven's joining. Remember when I asked you who Rathbone reported to?"

The commander remembered all too well. "Yes..."

Diehl let his hands fall, and leaned forward. There was a light dancing in his hazel eyes. "Now, what does it all mean, Stavan?"

Stavan looked at him. The revelation hit, and he said, "Captain Rathbone reports to a Jedi."


	17. Chapter 16: Haunted Ground

**Chapter 16:**

**Haunted Ground**

_Odaris. A small planet located on the Outer Rim, within the borders of the Empire._

It was late by the time Erril Kaven emerged from Captain Rathbone's quarters.

He had been tired and out of sorts before, but now that he had managed to persuade the older man to send him to Mustafar, he felt a little better. They would hit Mustafar and Mernall at the same time, landing the first blows on the ISB and showing them that the New Empire was not to be trifled with. Kaven would have a battalion of Stormtroopers to aid him. Captain Rathbone himself would be on Mernall, with his own men. They would have a few days to plan the attack, until Snake-Eyes and the others came with their tickets to Canaida, and now Captain Rathbone was probably thinking over who to send, mentally allocating his officers and his companies.

_I hope Jan won't be involved, _Kaven thought suddenly, coming to a halt in the hall. Then he relaxed. His younger brother was still in training on Canaida, and Canaida was where he would stay until he had learned his basic lightsaber forms. When they had left for Torek, Jan had been busy flailing around in the training hall learning the moves of Form IV. After that there were still three more forms. His little brother was doing well, though, and it wouldn't be long before he had all his basic moves down. _He's going to be a Jedi, _Kaven thought, and felt a little glow inside at that.

He turned at the sound of footsteps and saw Major Kaine coming down the hall, his arm around a woman in a little black dress. They were carrying on, giggling and stopping every now and then to kiss, or otherwise awkwardly kissing and trying to walk at the same time. _Both drunk, _Kaven decided.

They reached Kaine's door. The major patted his pockets for his key-card, saw Kaven standing there, and said, "Hey! Have fun?"

"Uh, sure," the knight replied.

Kaine smirked. His brown hair stood up in messy curls, and there was a flush across his cheeks. "I'll bet." He unlocked the door and pushed it open. "So did I. I had fun. ...The captain's a good-looking guy, in't he? Nice hair...nice body..."

_He can't possibly mean- _Kaven began, but the woman poked Kaine in the chest and said, "_You _have a nice body. Les' get that uniform off'f you." She all but tackled him, and they stumbled out of sight. The door slammed shut.

_He's drunk, he probably won't even remember what he said in the morning, _the Jedi thought. Anyway, Kaine was probably just being...Kaine. Shaking his head, Kaven went into his own room.

* * *

The prison cell was two and a half by three metres, with only a cot to break up the monotony of its bare walls and floor and ceiling. Lieutenant Aeron lay on that cot now, with his hands behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankle, wriggling one foot idly. He could hear the thunder of the storm even in his little jail cell, and every now and then a really good _crack _seemed to shake the building.

_I won't tell them anything, _he thought. Then: _Oh, be realistic. You won't tell them anything for the first while, then the questioning will eventually get to you and the temptation to tell them something will just get worse and worse till you crack._

There was the sound of a door opening. _Here they come._ He wondered if it would be Sutler interrogating him, or someone else, or whether one of the Jedi would just come in and pull it all out of his brain.

"Sir," said the prison guard, in greeting to whoever had just come in.

There was a pause, and then the visitor said, "Wait outside while I talk to him. I would rather he be at his ease." It was a man, his voice flavoured with an exotic accent. _Bancroft._

"As you wish, Colonel. He's in the last cell."

The door opened and shut again. There were footsteps, and then Colonel Bancroft came into view beyond the force field that made up the fourth wall of the cell. "You were expecting perhaps Lieutenant Sutler, Lieutenant Kano, or even one of the Jedi?" he asked.

Aeron sat up, eyeing him. Bancroft was alone, standing with his hands folded. He didn't seem to be armed, and in any case he was not a physically formidable man. He was of average height and build, genial-looking, and never gave the impression of being dangerous. "That's true. I was," the spy said. He could hear the storm still raging outside, and wondered if they would lose power to the building. There was a generator, but it would take a couple of seconds to click on after an outage. _I could take him down if only that barrier were off. _Bancroft was no Kano; surely the spy could take him.

Bancroft cocked his head. "You're thinking of how to either get me in there so you can overpower me, or to get yourself out of that cell and do the same, aren't you? Well, don't. I'm here to talk to you, not to get beaten up."

"You're a sharpie, Colonel."

The colonel went to the guard's station and pulled a chair over. "I don't know your accent," he said, taking a seat in front of the cell, "but you know mine. Where are you from, Aeron?"

The imperial officer didn't see a point in lying. "Taramis. It's a nice place, you ought to visit some time." He got up and went to the barrier, then sat down cross-legged before it, all the better to talk to the man.

"I would, if it weren't in imperial territory. And you should be calling me _sir, _like any other lieutenant."

"I was under the impression that you weren't my colonel anymore."

"A little politeness is still in order." Bancroft leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Captain Rathbone is your officer, is he not?" Aeron's face was blank. The older man shrugged, then stood up and went over to a security camera on the wall. It had been installed not long after Erril Kaven had escaped this jail; the spy wondered if the guy had been held in this very cell. _Give me some of your luck, flyboy, _he thought, watching Bancroft consider the camera.

The colonel stood on his tiptoes and reached up, then shut the camera off. "There. Now that's more private." He came back and sat down again, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers across his knee, smiling at the lieutenant. "Everything we say now is under only four eyes. Do you know why I came to see you personally, Aeron?"

"Nope. Why, Colonel?"

"I'm here because I wanted to talk to a neo-imperial face-to-face. This New Empire thing, it's interesting. There are some rumours that you don't like the Sith, whatever they are, and Dark Jedi. As it happens, _we _don't, either. So my first question is, why make a New Empire as opposed to just defecting to the Republic?"

The spy looked at him as if he'd gone mad. "Because-oh-" He clapped a hand over his mouth. The colonel looked pleased at his little trick. Aeron let the hand fall, and sniffed. "No use hiding it now. Why make a New Empire instead of joining you people? Because. Look at the Old Republic. The Empire rose for a _reason, _the reason being that it was time for the old regime to croak."

"And what if it was time for the Empire to 'croak'?"

"Nah. It's too young to die. She just needs a few changes, is all."

"So you think this New Empire could flourish?" Bancroft asked, with interest.

Aeron stared at him. "I see what you're getting at now," he said slowly. "_You're _interested in joining it, aren't you? You miss the Empire, Colonel? It's been about seven months since you were with her, after all."

"I am conducting an investigation, Lieutenant, not arranging for a defection. I must know about your faction, your goals, your intent."

"Arranging for _another _defection, you mean."

Bancroft gave him an irritated look. "I would thank you not to bring that up. I am hardly the first imperial to join the rebels."

"Too right."

"Where is your base?"

"Out in the back of beyond."

"I _know _that already. Tell me what the planet is called."

"Now that's not like you, Colonel," Aeron said. "You'll have to make me dob myself in to tell you that one."

The older man hesitated. _He doesn't know what that means, _the spy realized. _Basic's not his first...oh, ho ho..._

"If that's what it takes," said Bancroft, with finality. "You'll break eventually, Lieutenant. You would spare yourself a lot of grief if you told me what I want to know right away."

Aeron sighed and let his shoulders slump. "There's no hope for me, is there? If I told you, maybe you and I could cut ourselves a deal."

"That is always possible." The colonel leaned forward. "The New Republic is a place where there are many opportunities, I'm told."

_You're a regular snake in the grass, aren't you, Colonel? _"I don't want to stay with the Republic. I want to go back to the Empire. Maybe you could join me," Aeron replied, arching an eyebrow at him. "What do you say, sir? Join the New Empire?"

Bancroft chuckled. "Is this a questioning session or a recruitment station? If I wanted to join you, I would have to know where to go, is that not so?"

The spy leaned forward. "I can't quote you the coordinates, but..." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "If you were to give me a free ticket out of here, I could tell you a thing or two about the New Empire."

"Me? Let a spy go? Ridiculous."

Aeron turned himself to the side and settled back against the wall. "Or," he said, "I could clam up and be generally disagreeable, and by the time you get me singing, the New Empire's overrun the Republic. They're allied with stygian priests, you know."

"Stygian...priests?" Bancroft looked uncertain. "Those people? That cult?"

The younger man nodded solemnly. "The best allies are the ones that can bring the dead back to life. I've lost track of how many times the Captain's been reanimated."

A line appeared on Bancroft's forehead. "Now you're joking. You can't...bring the dead back to life. You just can't."

But Aeron was not smiling. "You and me have a deal? Or do we drag this out?"

The colonel thought a while, staring hard at him. Then he said, "Tell me."

Aeron turned to him. "All right." He took a breath.

"It was about three in the arvo, the day I met the captain. I'd been on leave and was tromping around enjoying the day, you know, stopping in at the local milk bar and grabbing a dilly bag before I set out. Just me and the mozzies to keep me company on the road, with my kit on my back and the sun blazing down," he said. "Bush telegraph had it about this New Empire business, but I never considered it fair dinkum."

Bancroft looked puzzled. "Fair...?"

"But what," Aeron continued, "should I come across all the way out beyond the black stump but an imperial shuttle where one isn't supposed to be, with all the imps around it flat out like a lizard drinking? Being the stickybeak I am-and you'd know _all _about being that, right, Colonel?-I went over to them and said, 'Hey, what are you lot doing, this isn't even imperial territory.' They whipped around at that and bailed me up pretty quick, then hauled me over to Captain Rathbone with me squawking the whole time, what with being imperial _too _and realizing that I wasn't within cooee of getting help if they decided to do away with me. Then-"

"What are you saying to me?" the older man broke in. "Speak Basic!"

"I _am _speaking Basic, mate," said the young man, who was enjoying watching him squirm. "Anyway, they took me to talk to the captain. The second I saw him I thought, 'I've made a blue, I've made a _real _blue.' He'd already been reanimated twice by that point. Bloody oath. The galaxy's a hard place to live, and even harder when everybody wants you for one thing or another. Anyway, he looked like the bastard son of a Fenn; he had all this black, black hair, and his good eye was blazing yellow. I say _good _eye 'cos he had a patch covering the other one. Took a knife through the eye that killed him once, apparently, and his stygian second breathed the blue fire down his throat and got him kicking again. ...Now I'm just rambling. But he _struck _me, Colonel. The sight of him." Aware that Bancroft was giving him a look that suggested he had lobsters crawling out of his ears, Aeron continued, "I thought he'd kill me for sure, but instead he gave me a fair suck of the sauce and took me into the shuttle. 'My shout,' he says, and I realized she'd be apples."

"What's apples?" the colonel asked, completely lost.

"_She _was apples."

"She?"

"She," he said solemnly. "To make a long story short, we had a cuppa and he asked me to join him. I thought he was coming the raw prawn with me, but-"

"Coming the raw prawn!" Bancroft's voice held a note of panic. "_What_? That sounds filthy-"

"No. No worries, she'll be right. Anyway, he heard about my career and must have thought my blood's worth bottling, and to tell you the truth, I thought the same about _him _after hearing a few stories. Not to big-note myself, but I was a pretty good spy until I came a gutser with _you. _Bloody vaccines."

"Blood's worth bottling? What, is he a _vampire_ now?" Bancroft's face was flushed. He stood up. "You are _playing _with me!" he snapped.

"What, didn't you understand me? I gave it to you in plain old Basic," Aeron said, mildly.

"_No, you didn't! _You have mocking_-_" The colonel took a deep breath. "-_you have been mocking me. _And you will stop."

_So it is true that his grammar takes a hit when he gets upset, _Aeron thought. "No worries," he said, smiling.

"_I do not worry!_" Bancroft exploded, pointing a finger at him. "But _you _should be worried! Do not forget that you are in enemy hands when you lie and make up stories! There is no deal between us, and there will never be."

Aeron got to his feet. "You think I'd make a deal with a snake like you, Colonel?" he demanded. "After Nebelland?"

"You know nothing of Nebelland," the colonel told him, his voice suddenly soft. He stared coldly through the barrier for a moment, then turned to go. "This session is finished. I will have Lieutenant Kano question you on the morrow." He started away.

"Colonel," Aeron called after him, "How's Lieutenant _Ryan _these days?"

Bancroft froze.

"Thought so," said the spy.

Bancroft turned, and with a few quick steps he was right in front of Aeron again, his iron-blue eyes boring into him. "Never mention that name again," he hissed.

After the colonel had left, Aeron went back to his cot and collapsed there, his knees now feeling like jelly.

* * *

They watched the shuttle break the atmosphere of Entralla. After it had faded from sight, Admiral Makar said, "That's three down." He turned to Lieutenant Fell, who stood nearby with his hands folded behind his back. "We'll make our next stop at Tel Sharis. Fell, I want you planetside to deliver the message."

"Yes, sir."

After Fell had left, the admiral glanced across the bridge of the _Imperial Dawn. _Everyone was busy at their stations. Since Madeen had arrived they had been shifting from course to course, making as many hyperspace jumps as their drives would allow, sending off shuttles and other ships, and making as few transmissions as they could. A whisper was harder to intercept than a radio message in this day and age.

At his side Captain Bast asked softly, "Do you think we'll have time to warn everyone, Admiral?"

"No," the old man said. "But at the very least, we can warn the major ones." He raised his voice to be heard. "Stone! Set a course for the Tel Nor system and relay those coordinates to Captains Tyrell, Auron, and Salieri. We will be leaving as soon as that shuttle returns."

"At once, Admiral," his navigator said, and turned back to his console.

"Perhaps we could make use of the bounty hunter," Bast suggested, his voice still low.

Admiral Makar shook his head. "She is much too conspicuous. The ISB will see her a mile away." Madeen was anything but subtle. Makar almost felt bad for dragging her into imperial intrigue. _I'll have her taken to Canaida, _he decided. _After he hears about this, Lee will have a few missions for her, no doubt._

_

* * *

_

A great crack of thunder sounded and Aerin Sutler half sat up, suddenly awake. When he realized it was just the weather, he sank back onto the pillow and squinted at the clock on the night-table. It was just after one in the morning, by Infellian rotation. The room was curiously light for the hour, and every now and then it lit up in stark black and white as lightning flashed outside. The rain had stopped, but outside the window the clouds were still a boil of light and fury.

_They must be soaked, _he thought, thinking of Nova and Bal. The Jedi had been out on a training excursion earlier that day, and had called earlier to say they were heading for the nearest shelter. Either they had made it to Vesper or some other town, or they were spending the night in a cave.

He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but found he could not get comfortable. After a while he gave it up, got out of bed, and turned the light on. Without really thinking about it he got dressed and combed his hair, then left the room.

Some ten or fifteen minutes later he found himself standing by a bank of tall windows that faced west, looking down at the muddy swamp the rain had made of the slope. It looked almost deep enough to swim in. Come tomorrow everything would be hopping frogs and blooming flowers and amphibious beasts that came out for a taste of the fresh water. _I should go walking with Nova, if I can get away for it._

Behind him came footsteps and a soft murmur of voices as the guard for the detention was changed. Sutler looked over his shoulder. The man now leaving was the one who had been on guard when Kaven was held prisoner, the one who had been mind-tricked.

_I just hope this one's not Force-sensitive, _he thought, and wondered if _he _could be mind-tricked. _It works only on the weak-minded, _Nova had told him. Sutler remembered how easily irritated he had been with Kaven, how frustrated and angry, and wondered if that was a form of mind-tricking, to be able to subtly influence those around you with the Force. If that were so...did it mean that he was weak-minded? He hoped not.

He went into the detention, and the guard sitting at the desk near the cell area stood up at his approach. "Lieutenant Sutler. Are you here to see the prisoner, sir?"

"Yes." The lieutenant went to the last cell, saw Aeron lying on the cot inside with one arm thrown over his face, then turned back to the guard. "Leave us. I want to talk to this man on my own."

The man nodded and left. Sutler turned back to the cell to find the spy sitting up. "You know, I expected you'd show up sometime eventually," Aeron said. "What with you and the Jedi on investigation and all."

He had a different accent now, Sutler noted. _Investigation _had come out with an _aye _instead of an _ay _on the penultimate syllable. "You're not really from Leto," he said, coming to stand before the barrier. Aeron shook his head. "I heard that Colonel Bancroft came in here to question you...and left angry."

"I might have been disagreeable."

"How long have you been a spy, Aeron? ...If that's your actual name?"

"It's not. But don't worry, we're still Aeron and Aerin as far as anyone's concerned."

"You had something to do with the Sonalia defeat, didn't you? You helped Kaven."

"I did," Aeron agreed. Sutler glared at him. "You can't expect any less of an imperial, can you? I've got a job to do, same as you."

"Yes. You had a job to do. And all this time you've been working for the Empire," the older man said, bitterly. "Every time you kept company with me, it was to see how the investigation was going, wasn't it?"

"Hey, now. Not every time." The imperial officer got up and came closer to the barrier, moving aside to peer as far into the detention as he could. Apparently satisfied that no one else was with them, he continued, "I like you, you're a pleasant sort. So I'm going to tell you something important."

"What, another lie?"

"_No. _It's a warning, Aerin."

It was too presumptuous of him to assume they were still on friendly terms. "Don't call me Aerin," Sutler said tightly. "You lost that privilege when you lost your cover story."

The blonde man sighed. "All right. But you've got to hear me out, Lieutenant. _Don't trust Bancroft._"

"I trust him more than I trust you."

Thunder crashed outside, so loud that they felt the vibration in the floor. "You were a lot friendlier twenty-four hours ago," Aeron said.

"Twenty-four hours ago I didn't know you were working for the New Empire." Sutler blew out a sigh. _What does he mean, 'Don't trust Bancroft?' Does he mean that Bancroft is a spy, too? _"Why shouldn't I trust him?"

"He's...not what he seems. What do you know about Nebelland?"

Sutler shrugged. "It's a misty planet on the Outer Rim. The colonel was there before he got rescued by New Republic forces." _He's just trying to get me back with him, _he thought, looking at Aeron. The spy looked sincere, but he always _had_, that was the thing. "What are you trying to tell me? What do you think you know about it?"

"The truth." Aeron looked past him, to where there was a security camera on the wall. Then he squatted, so that Sutler's body would hide him from its view. "I bet there's more than a few that can read lips here." Sutler raised one dark eyebrow.

"All right," the spy began, "the thing is, Bancroft had two right-hand men. The one is Kano. The other one was Lieutenant-"

The power went out.

There was a second's pause, and then Sutler's breath rushed out of him as Aeron tackled him headlong. For another second they seemed to be flying in the darkness, and then the floor came up and hit them both. The older man cursed and swung, and felt his fist connect with Aeron's outer arm. In response he was slammed down on his back, and felt the spy climb onto him. A hand seized his wrist; it felt like Aeron's left. With his own left Sutler punched him, and managed to hit him in the stomach. There was an _oof, _and then the imperial officer grabbed him.

For a few more seconds the two scuffled in darkness, kicking and cursing and yelling, and then abruptly the generator kicked in and they were bathed in light again. Sutler heaved Aeron off of him, and the two got up again. They circled each other. Aeron's face was flushed with exertion, and curls of blonde hair hung in his face.

The door slid open. "_Lieutenant!_" a man's voice cried. Sutler jumped, and the moment of distraction cost him. Aeron grabbed him and spun him around so that he was facing away from him, the fingers of his right hand coiled in Sutler's dark hair and his left hand holding Sutler's arms up painfully behind his back. He took a few steps back. The guard came jogging into the room, reaching for his blaster.

"Now, you don't want to do that," Aeron said to the guard, as he backed closer to the wall, keeping the rebel officer between them. Sutler caught a whiff of something that smelled hot. _The barrier! _he thought. The spy had no blaster and Sutler was unarmed, but the force field could be lethal. If Aeron shoved him into it...

"Take that blaster and put it on the floor," the spy ordered. The man hesitated. "_Do _it, you bloody idiot, or you'll be short an officer." The guard looked to Sutler, who nodded. The guard drew his blaster slowly, then set it on the floor. "Good. Now, kick it toward us. Gentle, now. You don't want it going off."

The weapon slid across the floor. Aeron hooked a foot under it and flipped it into the air, letting go of Sutler's hair in order to catch it. Sutler didn't move; they were too near the barrier to make any hostile moves.

There was a moment of silence. Then the guard said, hesitantly, "And now..."

"And now," said Aeron, "lie down and have a sleep." He shot the man.

It was too much. "_Bastard!_" Sutler snapped, as the soldier crumpled. "You warn me one minute and shoot my guards the next!"

"It was on stun. I'm not half the bastard you think I am." Aeron let go of his wrists and held him out at arm's length, his left hand on his shoulder and the blaster pointed at his back. Sutler held his hands up, at shoulder-height. "Now come along. You and me, we're going places."

* * *

At the junction of corridors were a couple of officers, who had heard the shot and had come running to investigate. "Gentlemen," said the spy, backing down the corridor to the right. "Stay back, all of you. And you there, mate, don't think I don't see you," he said to a third man, who had been walking silently toward them from behind. "Get over there, that's good."

"I'm glad your girlfriend's not here," he whispered to Sutler. The Jedi would beat him to a pulp if she knew.

They moved through the corridors. Fortunately, at one in the morning there was more or less a skeleton crew on duty, and more corridors were empty than populated. Without much incident they made it to a garage where the base's landspeeders were kept. "You're driving," Aeron said.

"Where are we going?" Sutler asked, sullenly.

"Vesper. Got a ship to catch."

The rebel officer didn't move. "No."

"Aerin, I don't want to shoot you, but I will if I have to." The imperial officer pointed to one of the speeders. "Now you get _in _there, boyo, or I-"

It was as if he had said a magic word. Sutler's face took on a strange look, and he wordlessly got into the speeder and started it up. He waited silently for the spy to get in. Aeron got in the back. "Right," he said, wondering what that was all about. "Get us to the spaceport."

* * *

The lightning had stopped by the time they got to Vesper, and the air was cool and moist. Sutler hadn't spoken for the entire journey, and he was still silent by the time they came to a halt at the airfield. "I ought to keep you with me," Aeron said, getting out of the speeder. He motioned for the rebel officer to follow him, and Sutler climbed out as well, taking his bloody time about it.

"Why didn't you just steal a ship from the base?" Sutler asked, crossing his arms.

"Two words: _base defences. _They'd have me shot down before I could get as far as the thermosphere." The imperial officer glanced over the ships available. There were only a couple of small ones that looked viable; the rest were locked up tight or in the immediate vicinity of their pilots.

"You're going to get caught anyway."

"We'll see. Look, about Bancroft...the New Empire's got some of his surviving men, and they know what the colonel's really like. You can't trust him."

Sutler looked away. "You'll say anything, won't you."

The spy exhaled sharply through his nose. "Just come on, Rebel."

He took Sutler by the arm and dragged him over to one ship, a small Corellian affair just large enough for three or four people and their luggage. "Get in there," he said, turning back to his Letoan accent. Bancroft had mentioned rumours of neo-imperial activity on Leto; even if that weren't true, Leto was still imperial. He would be out of Bancroft's reach there. "We need to skedaddle before your friends arrive," he added, still testing his accent. Sutler tossed a look at him over his shoulder, then went up the ramp.

* * *

In the shallow cave where the Jedi had taken shelter from the storm, Nova Trev looked to the entrance and said, "It's letting up." The hard and endless patter of rain had stopped, and moist cool air blew into the cave, a fresh gust of life in a place that had been dank and still for the last few hours. Outside all was blackness, with only a few twinkling lights in the distance to mark out buildings. Lightning flickered in the distance, in the direction of the base.

Across from her, Bal stirred from his meditations and opened his eyes. She glanced at him. "We should get back to the base. Something is going on. I feel it."

"I don't feel anything," said the Zabrak. _Not at the base, anyway, _he reflected. He had slept some during their forced stay in the cave, and he had dreamed of fire and shadows, so vividly that when he had awakened he had almost felt the heat searing his skin. Now he just felt cold.

Nova bit her lip. "It's Aerin," she said at last. "I feel him going away, but I don't know why he would."

Bal stood, cracked his head on the low ceiling, and reached up to rub his sore head. Bent nearly double, he went to the cave mouth. It was just after two in the morning. Nova got up and joined him, walking hunched over like an old lady. "All right," he said. "Let's go see."

* * *

The target display beeped.

"Nice," said Omar, as Marek lowered his blaster rifle. The rings of the target flashed and shrunk. The target display was only fifteen centimetres in diameter now; it had begun as four times that, and with each successive bull's eye the Stormtrooper made, it had shrunk accordingly.

"Try for five," the younger trooper urged his partner. Half a dozen other troopers had gathered to watch, standing with arms crossed or leaning on the dividers between aisles on the shooting range. Five was a tough shot, six was worse, and eight was an unthinkable accomplishment that had only been achieved once, by an Arkanian trooper who had bragged about it for weeks afterward, until his comrades had threatened to tie him to the display if he didn't shut up about it.

Marek raised his rifle again. Thirty metres away, the target display waited. He sighted, took careful aim, and fired, and cursed when he missed.

"Next time," a Stormtrooper said, turning back to his own practice.

One of the troopers who had stood watching with his arms crossed nodded to one of his comrades. "Why don't you show these hillbillies how it's done?" he asked. He was one of the ISB troopers who had accompanied Major Diehl to the Letoan base.

"Wouldn't be worth my time," the man he had nodded to replied. "Getting six is a bad day for me."

Marek didn't reply, and just reached out to the control panel to reset the display. The target grew out again, and flashed a _ready _signal at him. "We don't use stationary targets," the first ISB man informed him archly.

"Yeah, I bet civilians make _great _moving targets," the Stormtrooper said under his breath, and turned to the holographic display to start over.

A black and white hand grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and turned him around. "What was that?" the ISB trooper demanded. When two whole seconds went by without Marek answering, he continued, "What'd you say to me, trooper?"

"I said, try fighting something that shoots back sometime. Now get your mitts off me." Marek brushed the guy's hand off his shoulder.

"So you think you do all the fighting and leave the easy stuff to us, do you?" The ISB Stormtrooper gave Marek a shove then, a short thrust with the heels of his hands. "Do you?"

"Hey," Omar said, affronted.

"Boll," said one of the bureau trooper's comrades, warningly. "We're not here to start fights. Just let it go."

But it was not enough to pacify the ISB trooper. "You borderland hicks," Boll said to Marek, contemptuously. "You think you're so high and mighty just because you're frontline grunts, not security personnel. You're cannon fodder, is what you are."

There was a tension-filled silence, as the rift between the base troopers and the ISB troopers deepened. Both sides eyed each other warily. There were four of each. An even match.

"All right," the more peaceable ISB trooper began, "you've said your piece. Now _hold _it."

Marek looked Boll right in the eye and said coolly, "You want to know what I said? I said, 'I bet civilians make _great _moving targets.' You call us cannon fodder, but unarmed and unarmoured civilians are what they call _you _guys in for. You're the dregs of the Corps."

There was a _crack _as Boll's fist collided with Marek's faceplate, in a blow that might have broken the Stormtrooper's nose if he hadn't been wearing his helmet. Armoured or not, the impact was enough to make Marek grunt and stagger back, and Boll tackled him to the floor. All hell erupted then as the Stormtroopers went for each other, each side seeking to defend their comrade. There was a _gack _as Omar found himself in a headlock, and a grunt from another of Stavan's troopers as one of the ISB men kicked him, but overall the base troopers were giving more than they got, until-

"_What _is going on here!" a man's voice demanded. The fighting ceased abruptly, and the troopers looked up from their places on the floor and over from where they were grappling.

It was Commander Stavan himself hurrying toward them, his face livid with fury. "On your feet!" he barked, and his men were quick to comply. The ISB troopers were slower to obey, though they rose and separated from the base troopers as well.

"Now," said the commander, once they had all stepped apart. "What started this?"

There was a moment of embarrassed silence. The reason for a fight never seemed quite as good when you had to explain it afterwards. "Well?" Stavan asked.

Marek straightened. "They insulted us. We insulted them," he said. "It came to blows."

"I see." There was a flash of disappointment in Stavan's blue eyes as he looked the group over.

"They insulted _us _first," one of the ISB men protested.

Stavan held up a hand. "I don't care who started it. All of you participated, and all of you will be punished. Starting at noon today, you will be confined to quarters for the next forty-eight hours."

"Major Diehl will decide if we are to be punished or not, Commander," another ISB man said. Beneath his helmet, Marek almost winced.

"Pardon me?" Stavan asked, politely.

"That decision would lie with Major Diehl, sir...not you," the man explained. "You are not our commander."

A few steps took Stavan right up to the ISB trooper. "I am the commander of this _base, _trooper," the officer said, leaning closer until their faces were only inches apart. "The base at which you are currently serving. You _could _disregard your punishment...but remember that the rest of the men at this base are not of the security bureau, and they will obey their commander's orders. Be confined to quarters or be confined to cells. Your choice."

The Stormtrooper was still. "Are you threatening me, sir?"

Stavan's gimlet gaze did not waver. "I am _promising _you, HM-2086."

The officer's ghostly reflection stared back at himself from the trooper's opaque black lenses. The Stormtroopers' skull-like helmets were made to intimidate, but if they held any fear for Commander Stavan, he did not show it. Instead he waited in chill silence for HM-2086's answer.

Marek watched in silent approval. He had always thought of the slender, bespectacled Stavan as being kind of a marshmallow, to be honest, but it seemed that the man had some steel after all.

They waited for an answer. The Stormtrooper had ten centimetres and as many kilograms on the officer, a fact which did not seem to affect Stavan at all.

"Even if he is not yours," a man's voice said in the silence, "Stavan is the commander of this base, and you would do well to remember that."

They all turned. Major Diehl was leaning against the wall some metres away, his arms folded. When he saw that he had their attention, the ISB officer came away from the wall and continued, "As long as you remain here, you will abide by the base commander's rules, so long as they do not contradict my own. Is that clear?"

There was a chorus of _yes, sir_s from the ISB troopers. "As Commander Stavan has said, you will be confined to quarters for forty-eight hours. Be glad it's not longer." Diehl jerked his head in the direction of the door. "Dismissed."

Stavan nodded to his own men, and the Stormtroopers filed out.

* * *

"How long were you there?" Stavan asked, once they were alone in the range.

"Long enough." Major Diehl studied him, his hazel eyes narrow. "You have some nerve to be ordering _my _men around, Stavan."

The commander was too annoyed with his own men's conduct and the ISB troopers' insolence to be intimidated now. "I will not have this stupid squabbling at my base," he snapped. "Either keep your men on their leashes, Major, or have them thrown in their kennel and be done with it!"

Diehl's eyes widened, and Stavan feared he had spoken too openly...until the major actually _laughed. _It was a short and rough laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless. "You _do _have nerve," the ISB officer said, once he had finished. "But don't forget who holds the cards between us, Erich."

_Always you. _Stavan bowed his head. "I haven't," he said. "In any case, Major, I wanted to tell you that I am planning another trip to Mobius for research. I intended to have a shuttle prepared tonight-"

"No," Diehl replied. "You're spending the night with _me._"

At that Stavan's train of thought not only derailed, but crashed and burned. "_What?_"

"I've been working fifteen hours a day on this investigation," the major told him. "And I want a night off. But the thing is, I have to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't do anything...unfortunate. The easiest way to do that is to have you with me, agreed? So, you and I..."

Stavan was still off track. "We're going to..."

"...go out to that nightclub in Anmarck and enjoy ourselves," Diehl finished.

The commander sagged slightly. "Oh...yes," he said. "Yes. That sounds like fun."

"You're a rotten liar." Diehl went to where the practice blasters lay and picked up a pistol. With one hand behind his back and his body turned to the side like a fencer, he raised it and fired. Bull's eye. The target display shrunk. "What do you want with Mobius? Is this about Rathbone again?" He fired again, and the target display shrunk again.

"Yes," Stavan said. "There's something..." He watched Diehl take a third shot. It was a direct hit. "There's something about Johanneston. I need to go there."

"You have leave coming up, don't you? Are you planning on going to Johanneston then?"

"Yes."

Diehl lowered his blaster and turned to him. "What am I going to do with you, Stavan?" he asked. "Leave is a wonderful chance to run off."

"You still don't trust me?"

"There aren't many people I trust." The ISB officer did look like he needed a night off; there were dark shadows under his eyes. Stavan didn't feel much sympathy for him, though. "I'll tell you what," Diehl said. "I'll give you something to take with you when you go, so you can keep in touch with me and set my mind at ease."

"Has your mind ever been at ease?" the commander asked. Diehl just smiled. "But, whatever you say, Major. I'll keep in touch."

Without bothering to finish the program, Diehl turned to the control panel for the target display and switched it off. He set the blaster down. "Good," he said.

* * *

The little ship shot through hyperspace.

"What do you _want _from me?" Sutler demanded, finally. For the last two hours he had been sitting in sullen silence in the co-pilot's chair, where Aeron had tied him down for lack of a securer place to put him.

"Insurance," the spy told him, checking his map. Sutler wriggled in his chair. "You feeling the call of nature?"

"No!" Sutler's muscles stood out underneath his skin as he struggled against the cables binding him to the chair. "Let me go!"

"Right. I'll just untie you so you can bean me with something," Aeron said, sarcastically. He had gone back fully to his Letoan accent. "_Relax, _Rebel. I'm not going to hurt you...unless you make me. So just sit tight. If everything goes well, we'll be rid of each other in a few days."

The lieutenant gave up, panting. "Are you...are you going to sell me to the Empire?" he asked, after a while.

"Would you believe me if I said I was going to dump you on some neutral planet instead?"

"No." _I wonder if Nova can feel me, _Sutler thought. _But we're so far away now._

After a few minutes they emerged from hyperspace, and Sutler saw a pale, unfamiliar planet floating before them in the void. "Where are we? I thought we were going to Leto."

"Leto's imperial. We're not dressed right." Aeron glanced aside at him. "This is Nebelland. Republic territory, but Bancroft's not likely to come here after what he pulled. We're going to make a quick little shopping trip."

They moved closer, breached the atmosphere, and then they were flying at full speed above a whole ocean of mist, through which only the tips of the tallest trees poked. Sutler watched through the viewport, amazed at all the mist. Below a certain point there was nothing but white. He couldn't tell how far below them the ground was, and it was a mystery as to whether anything lived under that thick white blanket.

They had been flying for twenty minutes or more before a series of high cliffs came into sight. There was a town built there on a plateau, above the mist and in the warm sunlight. Aeron slowed the ship, and went toward the town.

After they had docked on one of the smaller landing pads in the town's airfield, the spy said, "I won't be long."

Once he had gone Sutler twisted this way and that, but the cables were tight and secure. Finally he just sighed, and gave up.

* * *

Aeron returned later with a bag full of clothing, and another bag which he stuffed into a backpack. Better that Sutler didn't see the contents of that one; it was full of disguise aids. When he went into the cockpit, he was glad to see that Sutler was still there and secure. The rebel's eyes were closed, and he was mouthing something. The spy watched him. _Nova. Nova. Hear me, please, Nova. Nebelland, we're by _Nebelland. _Nova..._

With a cold feeling Aeron realized that Sutler was trying to contact his Jedi girlfriend. Could she hear him if he thought hard enough at her? What about at such a distance? _We've got to get out of Republic space _now, he decided, and sat down. As they took off he gave Sutler a cautious look out of the corner of his eye. _I don't _think _he's Force-sensitive..._

Once they were off of Nebelland and safely on the first of their hyperspace jumps to Leto, Aeron went and changed out of his rebel uniform into civilian clothes. A brown jacket and trousers, and a red shirt. Plain enough. Then he went back into the cockpit and said, "All right, you. I've got some civilian clothes for you, so you'll be safe on Leto." He stepped closer to Sutler's chair. "I'm going to untie you. You're going to cooperate and be nice, and get dressed, and you're not to make a single hostile move, got it?"

"All right."

* * *

Lieutenant Fell stood by and waited while the shuttle was prepared, mentally reviewing what he was to say to the commander once he had gotten off on Tel Sharis. Outside the main hangar of the _Imperial Dawn _he could see the jungle planet looming, huge and green speckled with brown.

"I heard," said Lieutenant Bryn Shar, from where she stood at the top of the ramp, "that some parts of Tel Sharis are so humid that leeches live in the trees."

Fell looked up at her, wondering if she was just playing with him. "Surely not by the base?" _Oh, god, nobody said anything about land leeches._

The young woman shrugged. "Who knows. You might find out." Shar came down the ramp, and went to him. She leaned in close. "...When one lands, _plop, _on your shoulder and bites your neck," she said, slapping her shoulder lightly. The male officer paled.

She was just being nasty, Fell decided. She had noticed him after he had gotten into cahoots with the admiral and probably thought that he was a weenie (to be fair, though, he _was, _at least in his own opinion) and was getting her jollies by tormenting him. He thought she was pretty, and she had probably noticed that and retaliated by putting the fear of Shar into him.

"The shuttle's ready," the pilot added.

He started up the ramp. _There are no leeches in the trees, _he thought to himself. _No leeches in the trees. No leeches in the trees._

From behind him came a low chuckle. "And," said Lieutenant Bryn Shar, never able to resist going for a chink in anyone's armour, "I heard they're the size of small _dogs._"

* * *

After the Battle of Sonalia Commander Dias had chosen to return to Tel Sharis instead of remaining in the temperate land of lakes, a fact for which many of his comrades thought he was mad. He had developed an odd fondness for the jungle planet, which had become more bearable now that winter had settled on it, driving the usual daytime temperatures down to a relatively cool 25°C, but the real reason he had returned was that a far greater proportion of soldiers and officers at the Tel Sharis base, following the attack on Sonalia, were neo-imperial, and it was safer for him to be there.

So when his aide informed him of the _Imperial Dawn_'s appearance in the space over the planet, he had gotten a momentary bad feeling, but had brushed it aside and gone outside to meet the messenger they had sent.

The messenger was a young lieutenant with a pointed nose and protuberant ears, who kept looking warily at the trees for some reason as he crossed the compound.

"Commander Dias?" the boy asked, once they had closed with each other. "I'm Lieutenant Fell, sir. Admiral Makar sent me to tell you..." He glanced around, uncertainly.

Dias leaned in close. "Anyone in earshot is neo-imperial, Lieutenant. Give me the message."

"The ISB has a list of our personnel," Fell whispered. "There are bounties being offered. We don't know how many names they have, but they know who our captains are, and those around them."

_So the security bureau is on the move, _Dias thought, as Fell gave him the rest of the message. _But how...? There must be a traitor. But who? _"Tell the admiral we'll keep our eyes open," he said. "And if we see any flies on the wall...we'll swat them."

* * *

The text appeared on the screen:

**Come the raw prawn, to: **(_coll._) _Taramis. _To try to deceive or mislead someone, usually by acting or pleading innocent. To tell untruths, to bullshit, to be generally disagreeable. (_see also: to pull someone's leg_) Ex. _Are you coming the raw prawn with me?_

"Oh, is _that _what it means," Colonel Bancroft said, relieved. He jotted the explanation down, and checked off another definition on the list he had made. Setting the notepad down, he reached for the keyboard and typed: _flat out like a lizard drinking._

As the holonet dictionary of idioms made its search, the door to his office opened and Kano came in. "Sir," he said. "There's been no sign of Lieutenant Aeron _or _Lieutenant Sutler. But there's a missing ship at Vesper spaceport."

Bancroft wrote _v. busy _on his notepad, and said, "Find the owner and get the ship's make and model and description from them, and a picture also if they have one. From there, send an alert around the Republic."

Kano nodded and left, and it had not been three seconds since his departure when Nova Trev came in like a hurricane writ small. "Has there been any word?" she asked. Then, remembering herself: "Sir."

The colonel eyed her, testing the waters before he spoke. The Jedi had been beside herself when she and her Zabrak companion had come back to find that her partner and (evidently) boyfriend had been kidnapped by the imperial spy, and since then she and Kodar had been gone to Vesper and the other nearby spaceports to search for Sutler. Likely Sergeant Ellis and the others were still in town. "We're sure that they made it off planet," Bancroft told her.

"Yes," said Nova. "I felt him, far away. Aeron took him to a place called..._Nebelland._"

Bancroft felt his innards freeze solid at that. "How could you possibly know that?" he asked, hiding his discomfort.

"I heard it through the Force."

_How omnipotent does the Force make you? _the colonel wondered. _What all can you hear through the Force? ...My thoughts? _It struck him then as to how dangerous the Jedi could be. He was glad that they were on his side. But if they could read his thoughts...

"Or maybe it was 'Nebland,'" Nova mused.

"Nebelland," said the older man. "Count on it." All thoughts of Taramisian slang forgotten, he rose from his chair and faced her directly. "That's in Republic space." The Jedi brightened and looked ready to go running out of the office that very moment, but Bancroft added hastily, "Lieutenant Aeron is not stupid enough to stay there. He'll take them into imperial territory right away."

He came around the side of the desk. "Try to keep an eye on Lieutenant Sutler through the Force, I ask you. I will have inquiries sent to Nebelland."

There came a rustle of fabric from the doorway, and Nova looked over her shoulder. Bancroft's gaze moved past the Jedi to another woman, this one blonde-haired and a bit older than Nova, wearing a purple cape and light breastplate over a dark grey tunic. He raised his eyebrows.

"Hera? What are you doing here?" Nova asked. Evidently the two women knew each other.

"Nova. I could ask the same thing," the blonde woman said. She moved past the Jedi and bowed shortly in Bancroft's general direction. The colonel noticed that she, too, wore a lightsaber at her hip. _Another Jedi. _"Colonel. I am Arwyn Hera, a Jedi of the academy and former padawan of General Telis Kord. I have heard that there is an investigation of the New Empire proceeding." She straightened. "I would like to join it."

"Oh?" Bancroft saw a flicker of displeasure cross Nova's face for only a moment; Hera was no friend of hers, then. He studied this new Jedi. There was some suggestion of iron to her, cool and hard and inflexible. "What do you know of the New Empire?" he asked, ignoring for the moment Nova's beseeching look to him.

"I met a man who claimed to be a knight of that ghost faction," the woman said. "He introduced himself as Jan and wore an army lieutenant's uniform. He travelled with Stormtroopers, seeking a sabre crystal."

_So he _has _joined the New Empire, _Bancroft thought, and filed this new information away for later reference. "Where is Jan Kaven now?"

"With his Empire, surely," Hera replied, inclining her head. "He must not remain there. He will become a Dark Jedi, and another threat to the Republic."

"Master Hera, I am glad you've come," said Bancroft, smiling at her. "I would be delighted to add another Jedi to the investigation." Another flicker passed over Nova's face, unseen by Hera; dismay, this time. "If you are willing to fall under a military venture and work with us, your help would be most welcome." Hera nodded her agreement.

"I would be glad to join with the Republic military," she said.

* * *

_Leto! _Sutler thought furiously, as the little ship came to rest in a field near a large copse of trees. There was a town visible in the viewport, about a kilometre or two away. Outside it was a sunny day. The Republic officer closed his eyes and tried again. _Nova! We're on Leto! _He had no idea whether she could hear him or not, but he had to keep trying.

"Stop thinking at your girlfriend," Aeron snapped, as the ship came to a halt. "I know what you're doing."

"I'm not."

"You are so. Agh, I'm sorry I didn't leave you at Vesper."

Sutler wriggled. "You should have left me on Nebelland. Weren't you going to dump me on some neutral planet?"

"You're tempting me towards Lucinia, mate, with all the growling and complaining you've been doing. You should listen to me, even if you think I lie like a rug." Aeron sat back in his seat, running both hands through his curly hair. "I thought about taking you back with me to show you we're not all nasty buggers, but if your Jedi friend can track you, that's a real stupid thing to do."

The older man looked at him. "You know where the New Empire is?"

Aeron snapped his fingers. "I'll take you to Fimbria!" he said, inspired.

_Is he saying these things to fool me? _Sutler wondered. _Is he really going to hand me over to the Empire, and is just giving me false hope? _He didn't think that Aeron would be that pointlessly cruel, but he reminded himself that he really didn't know the man. The _Republic _Aeron wouldn't have done that, but the _imperial _Aeron...who knew? He could be just as cruel as any of his compatriots in the Empire.

Sutler had known another imperial officer who had delighted in playing with him in the same way that a cat played with a mouse. He decided that the real reason they had returned to Leto was for Aeron to turn him over to imperial authority. He watched as Aeron got up and went into the back. _Never, _he thought. _I won't go back into imperial hands again. Ever._

A few minutes later, the spy returned. "Hungry?"

"Sort of," his prisoner replied. It had been six hours or so since they had left Infel, and fourteen hours since he had last eaten. He had slept a little on the way to Leto, but not for long, and not well.

"There's nothing edible on the ship. It's either takeout for you, or you can behave yourself and we'll go someplace."

"I'll behave," Sutler said, meekly. Aeron watched him suspiciously for a moment, then came and untied the cables holding the rebel in place. Then he stepped back, and Sutler got up, rubbing his arms and wrists.

"If you're planning on trying anything, or running away when we're in town," Aeron warned, "remember that you're on an imperial planet. All _I've _got to do is blow the whistle on you and you're gone."

Sutler nodded. Aeron patted this hip, where a blaster was hidden from view beneath his jacket, then stepped aside. Sutler went out of the cockpit and through the storage area, then lowered the ramp. A warm breeze filled with the scent of clover and wildflowers filled the ship, and a breath of air stirred his dark hair.

He walked down the ramp and onto the grassy field. Aeron followed, a backpack in his hand. Birds sang. Ripples passed over the field as the breeze blew the grass. In the distance was the town, east of where they were. The north stretched away to the horizon, a heraldic field per fess azure et vert. In the west he could see trees, the beginnings of a forest, or else just groves growing together. To the south, more fields, and farther away, more trees. To the southeast...

He had been turning a slow circle in order to have a look at their surroundings, but when he saw what lay southeast of them, he stopped dead.

It was an imperial base. And there were Stormtroopers in the distance, coming closer.

He whirled on Aeron. "_LIAR!_" he screamed, and as the spy turned to him, he gave him a sound right hook that sent him flying into the grass along with his bag. Sutler was on him in a moment. "_Bastard!_" he spat, as they kicked and punched and fought for the second time in twenty-four hours. "_Liar! Deceiver! Son of a-oof_-" He let out a grunt as the imperial officer threw him into the grass. Aeron's hands wrapped around his thin wrists and pinned them to the ground. Sutler thrashed.

"What's wrong with you!" the spy demanded. There was blood at the side of his mouth from where Sutler had punched him. "I be nice and you throw it in my face! _WHAT!_"

"You're selling me! To the Empire!" Sutler's shoulder blades thumped the ground as he fought, punctuating each sentence. It was all Aeron could do to keep hold of him. "You think I don't see the base, or the Stormtroopers coming this way!"

"Stormtroopers?" Aeron looked up. "I didn't-" Sutler kneed him in the stomach, threw him off, then rolled to his hands and knees as quick as a cat and kicked him hard in the side of the leg.

The spy was nearly cackling with the pain. "Ahah! _Ahah..._You've got to believe me, I didn't call the Stormies..." He reached for the blaster at his hip, but found the holster empty. He looked at Sutler, and found himself staring down the barrel of a blaster pistol. Abruptly he forgot about the throbbing in his abdomen and leg.

"What now?" he asked softly.

Sutler was standing on his knees. "We're going back to Infel." He shuffled back a few steps, shying away, and glanced aside. The Stormtroopers had seen them, and were running now. The rebel got to his feet. "Come on. Get on the ship. _Get on the ship!_"

Aeron started to rise, then winced and fell back into a kneel. "You did a number on my leg, mate," he said.

The Republic officer was on his feet now, looking between Aeron and the oncoming Stormtroopers with a haunted look. "Come _on!_" he snapped. "We've got to _go, _I can't stay here-"

"_What's going on over there?_" a Stormtrooper called.

Sutler's hands were shaking. "I can't stay here," he said, again.

"_Drop that blaster, sir!_" the imperial soldier shouted.

Sutler took a step back, then bolted for the ship, leaving Aeron lying in the grass and the Stormtroopers sprinting ever closer. The ramp went up, and the ship began to lift into the air as a half-dozen troopers reached the spot where the two men had been fighting. The troopers fired a few shots, but none of them penetrated the hull of the ship. It lifted and flew upward and, with a twinkle of sunlight, was gone.

A Stormtrooper wearing a sergeant's shoulder-pad knelt at Aeron's side. "Now, what was that all about?" he asked. "You want to tell us what just happened?" His voice was professional, nondescript; he could have been any Stormtrooper, anywhere across the galaxy.

Aeron sat up carefully, feeling pain lance through his leg. It would be better in a few minutes, but for now it hurt like hell. "I had...a falling-out with my friend. I owed him money and had to tell him it'd be a while coming." He winced.

The Stormtrooper stared at him through blank black lenses. "God, are _you _a rotten liar," he said, mildly. Then he stood up and gave the spy a hand up as well. "Look, I've got just one question about what you were doing here, and I'm going to know if you're telling the truth or not," he told him. "Was it legal?"

Aeron nodded. "Yes, it was legal." The trooper stared at him a moment longer, then nodded and took a step back.

"Nothing more to see here," he said to his men.

"Are you sure the commander won't want to see him?" one of them inquired.

"The commander's too busy, and this guy's got nothing to do with us."

One of the troopers looked at Aeron. "You going to be able to get to town okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah, no worries," the spy said. He took a few sore, but functional steps on his hurt leg.

"Sheesh, the things you see out on patrol," said one of the Stormtroopers, as the six walked away.

Aeron watched them. Once they were out of sight, he flopped down in the grass again.

* * *

Bal and Nova were standing at one of the tall, thin windows lining the corridor running perpendicular to the prison area when Hera hailed them. "The colonel has agreed to my joining the investigation," she said, sounding as calm and confident as usual. Perhaps Nova only heard it because she disliked her, but Hera's voice always seemed to ring with self-righteous satisfaction. "I will have my own men when I need them, but otherwise I shall work on my own."

Nova was glad to hear that, and her smile was genuine as she turned to the older woman. "I'm sure you'll do well." Hera took the Jedi teachings very seriously and in fact she was quite a talented student, but Nova had always thought her too rigid, too uncompromising. Their personal styles clashed, and she was glad to not have to work with her. Bal got on with everyone, though, and he probably could have worked well with Hera if the need arose.

The Zabrak cocked his head. "Feel that? No, _hear _that?"

"Back in one piece!" they heard a voice crow from down the hall. It sounded like Nom Carver. All three Jedi turned at the commotion, and saw the door open to reveal a battered but very much alive Aerin Sutler, followed by Carver and Natasi, and a few other scattered personnel.

In her distraction Nova had not looked to the Force. Now she started with surprise, and flew at Sutler, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his narrow chest. He hugged her back. He smelled faintly of soap and sweat and grass and _Sutler_, but he was no longer in uniform. She looked him up and down. He was wearing a khaki-green shirt and tan pants. "Why are you dressed that way?" she asked. "How did you get away?"

"We wore civilian clothing to land on Leto," he explained.

"He beat the crap out of that guy," Carver said, approvingly. Nom Carver was very good at dealing with imperials, especially when blasters were involved.

Sutler nodded. "Well, we were fighting," he told the Jedi. "He was going to hand me over to the Empire. I had to leave when Stormtroopers showed up."

"Good thing you got away," said Bal.

"I'm glad you're all right," Nova told the officer, and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He smiled at her, and then his gaze moved to Hera. A curious look came over his face then. Nova looked between them, and saw that they had met before.

"He'd been kidnapped by a neo-imperial spy," Bal explained to the blonde woman, whose face suffused with understanding.

"Where is that spy now?" Hera asked Sutler.

"Leto," he replied. "Imperial territory."

A sharp exclamation in Fimbrian caught their attention, and the group looked as one to see Colonel Bancroft hurrying down the south corridor toward them, Lieutenant Kano hot on his heels. Bancroft was smiling, and Nova could feel both relief and joy coming off him. "So you're back!" he exclaimed, reverting to Basic. "They told me you had managed to get away and get back on your own. Excellent!" He closed with them. "You must tell me everything, of course."

"At once, Colonel," Sutler said. Something in his body changed, and Nova looked up at him. His expression was hard to read. "But, before the debriefing...may I have some time to rest?"

Bancroft flapped a hand in allowance. "Yes. You look like you need it. But when you're ready, come to my office. Not a moment later!"

"Yes, sir."

The fringes of the group began to disperse, and Nova let go of Sutler. Hera was giving her an appraising look, which she returned with a blank one of her own. As the lieutenant made to go, Hera moved closer to Nova and said softly, "The Jedi of the Old Republic were wary of attachment. We should be, as well."

She had probably meant it as an honest warning, but that didn't stop the comment from annoying Nova, who had been worried about Sutler ever since she had found out that he had been taken hostage. She glanced at her fellow Jedi, then to Sutler, and then back to Hera. She made her decision. "Aerin," she called, and Sutler turned.

Nova went to him and kissed him on the lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his, and to drive the point home she gave him a more intimate kiss than she otherwise might have in front of witnesses, opening his mouth and running her hands through his hair. Bancroft looked away politely, Kano smiled, and Nom Carver let out a delighted catcall. And Hera looked furious.

"Come on. Let's leave them to it," Natasi said to Nom, and they left...though not before the latter tipped a wink at Nova. The rest of the group dispersed, and Hera left with them, in a swirl of purple cape. Only Bal, Sutler, and Nova remained.

After they had parted, Nova saw that Sutler's cheeks were bright red. "Oh, Nova," he said, "that was very...ah...public."

"Sorry," said the Jedi. Though she wasn't. Not really.

Sutler gave her a look that suggested he knew that very well. His hazel eyes looked quite green now that his face was flushed. He brushed her hair with a hand, and said, "Just warm, ah, _warn _me next time, please? And not in front of a crowd, maybe."

"All right," Nova said, more genuinely contrite this time.

After the lieutenant had left them, Bal gave Nova a Look. "That wasn't the _most _mature thing you've ever done," he said, reflectively.

"I have my moments."

The Zabrak shook his head. "You and Hera don't get along as it is. You shouldn't make it worse, you know. We're Jedi, and there aren't many of us. We need to stay together."

Nova was feeling more contrite by the moment. "You are right," she admitted. "I was being immature and shouldn't have done it."

_I don't regret that kiss, though, _she thought. _That_ had been a kiss; she still felt his warmth tingling down her front. If that was what was in the present, she looked forward to what lay in the future.

Halfway between remorseful and pleased, she followed Bal out of the hall.

* * *

Under the late afternoon sun the bustling spaceport had settled down to a drowsy hum; the humidity from the storm had made the place seem like a sauna, and everywhere the two men walked, they saw people-human and alien alike-sitting exhausted in every available patch of shade. Outside the cantina they approached, Jawas fanned themselves, Wookiees panted, and one Chiss sat in a heat-induced stupor, his red eyes narrowed to slits, a half-melted cup of ice cubes in his hand.

After Lieutenant Sutler had gone to see the colonel, Bancroft had taken him out to Vesper to settle the issues with the missing ship. The spacer had been mollified between their efforts, and after it (an insectoid alien; Sutler hadn't been sure of its gender) had grudgingly accepted their apologies, they had left the airfield.

As they went into the cantina, Bancroft reached up to wipe the moisture from his forehead with the back of his hand. Sutler tugged at his shirt collar, trying to get some air fanned onto his skin, and they sat down at a table near the back wall, where a window had been left open.

"Aeron took you to Nebelland?" the colonel asked, once they had gotten their drinks. Both had taken them on the rocks. At Sutler's raised eyebrows, he added, "Master Trev told me. So you can hear each other across the depths of space?"

"She _heard _me?" Despite himself, Sutler was shocked. So his calls to her had been heard; but could she read his mind otherwise? If she could...

A pit opened in the bottom of his stomach, and he shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like the thought of anyone being able to read his thoughts, especially not her. There were...certain things...that he would rather tell her _later _rather than sooner, if at all.

Bancroft had noticed his discomfort. "So you didn't know, either. I see. Perhaps she only heard a distress signal from you. She nearly got the planet name wrong. It seems your call was only faint." The colonel thought for a while. "If you were taken by neo-imperials, would she be able to track you to their base, Lieutenant?"

_He must be joking, _Sutler thought. "No," he said. "No. She wouldn't. Not in unknown space." He didn't know that for certain, but the idea of giving himself to the imperials was unthinkable.

The colonel smiled comfortingly at him. "It wouldn't be a very nice plan anyway, would it? And too many things to go wrong. No, Lieutenant; you needn't worry about being used as a beacon." He gestured toward the window. "Have a look out there and tell me what you see."

Sutler looked. The window looked out at the end of a back alley. "Er," he said, "a drunk Shistavanen puking against a wall?"

Bancroft pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you hadn't taken me so literally_, _Lieutenant, you _might _have said the spaceport of Vesper, once a territory of the Empire, now a proud part of the New Republic."

"Yes," Sutler replied, looking apologetic. Retching noises floated in through the open window. "That, too."

"Once upon a time, Infel was not part of the Old Republic; in fact, it sided with the CIS during the days of the Clone Wars. Infel has always been a place where goods are sold, you see...and that includes _sentient _goods as well." Bancroft slapped the table. "Slaves. The Old Republic would have put a stop to that, but when the Empire rose to power, it allowed Infel to continue its trading. Slavery, you see, is legal in the Empire."

"It is," Sutler agreed. It was well known that the Empire allowed slavery, although its practice wasn't as widespread as some thought it to be. The majority of it was restricted to those territories that had practiced it before the imperial era, or were otherwise neutral to the concept of owning people; the humane liberties of the Old Republic had been too strong in the memories and cultures of the Core populace to embrace such things readily. Sutler had been an imperial officer for nearly two years before he had ever seen anything of the sort. "But why tell me this, Colonel?"

"Because we live in a more liberated time now," said Bancroft, and leaned forward on his elbows. "Lieutenant, you and I have something in common, that we were once imperial soldiers, and that each of us left the Empire. Ten years ago you would have seen...what are they called...flesh markets? Yes, flesh markets, in Vesper. Now you do not. If the Empire were successful in reclaiming its territories, it would most likely be legalized again. Do you know if this New Empire is any different?"

Sutler shook his head. The older man nodded solemnly. "I thought so," he said. "And I don't know, either. Think back to the recording of Telis Kord's assassination. Erril Kaven _claimed _that the New Empire wanted nothing to do with Dark Jedi and with Sith, but the general sensed the dark side in _him, _did he not?" Bancroft drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "So it is known that the late Emperor Palpatine was a Sith. I know nothing of Sith beyond their being an evil religion of some sort. The New Empire claims to want nothing to do with them...and yet Lee Rathbone, their leader, was very loyal to Palpatine. Well, according to Kord." He looked expectantly at Sutler.

"This doesn't add up," said the lieutenant. "Someone isn't telling the truth."

"Perhaps _no _one is telling the truth," Bancroft added. "Perhaps it is all lies within lies. Who knows? If the New Empire is too much like the Empire proper, then we must be enemies. But if they are like the New Republic, perhaps we could become allies. But hidden allies are not trustworthy, and hidden enemies are worse. We must know where they are."

"Yes, sir, we _are _trying. But they're not in known space..."

The Fimbrian waved a hand. "Master Hera has told me that Jan Kaven...the younger brother of _Erril _Kaven, now a Dark Jedi...is also with the New Empire. So that makes two _known _imperial knights, and I think that there are more. What if Rathbone himself were one of them? I heard that his second in command is a Stygian priest, but what if he were a knight, however secretly? What if Rathbone were a Sith of some sort?"

"He...he could be," Sutler volunteered. "But Kaven...ah...Nova said that he might not be a Dark Jedi, that he's being manipulated by the captain." _Is Captain Rathbone..._could _he be a Sith Lord? _It was possible; how _else _could a captain become a faction leader? "If the captain is a Sith, then he's gaining Dark Jedi all the time."

"And if that is so, the galaxy is in a great deal of trouble," Bancroft finished. He studied Sutler for a while, then asked, "Lieutenant, if it became possible for you to lead us to the New Empire by way of your bond with Master Trev, would you suffer yourself to be taken prisoner by these neo-imperials?"

_Suffer myself, _thought Sutler. _Now __**there's **__the right term. _He reached out and took his glass, and raised it to his lips. _But it's for the galaxy, isn't it, and I'm only one person. _He tilted his head back and drained it at a long swallow, and winced at the burn in his throat.

_What if they killed me? Or worse, what if __**he's **__there?_

_But it's for the galaxy._

He set the glass down, took a deep breath, and said, "Yes. Yes, I would."

Bancroft smiled at him. "That's very courageous of you," he said.

* * *

The landspeeder shot down the neon-lit street, hung a right turn sharp enough to almost have it on its side, then swung left into a parking lot and then into a free spot.

Stavan detached his fingers from their death grip on the dashboard. "_I'm _driving on the way home," he told Diehl, as he got out of the car. They were still in uniform, but unarmed. The bouncer nodded to them; no problems. Stavan followed the ISB officer into the nightclub, and a rush of voices and music and smells crashed over them like a wave.

The nightclub could have been any place on Corulag or Coruscant; there were island counters with booth tables set up around them, each side more or less hidden from each other by a curtain of thick green fronds. Rotating lights were suspended over the dance floor, shifting colour constantly. The place was filled with beings, but it wasn't crowded enough to have run out of tables yet. Diehl led Stavan over to an empty booth and sat him down, then leaned over him. "Do you dance?" he asked.

"Badly," Stavan said.

The major smirked. "What about when you've got a few drinks in you?"

"You think that will make me better?"

"It will make you less modest. Shots?" Stavan nodded his consent, hoping that Diehl hadn't decided to try to get him drunk as well as take him out clubbing. The ISB officer went to get the drinks. Stavan settled back, unaware that he was being watched.

* * *

_Erich Stavan? _Lieutenant Aeron wondered, when he caught sight of the bespectacled imperial officer sitting at a booth not far from the counter. He looked again, harder this time. It had been years since they had seen each other, but it _was _him; the pointed face, the glasses, the inscrutable blue eyes. He was a commander now, the spy saw, when he got a glimpse of the pips over the left breast of his uniform.

Before then Aeron had been thinking to call it an early night-he still ached a bit from the beating that Sutler had given him-but now that thought vanished. If anyone were to know about those rumours of neo-imperial activity on Leto, it would be Stavan. He was a cold guy, about as friendly as the average iceberg, but at least he was courteous enough, and right now he could give Aeron a hand.

Aeron swirled the beer in his glass idly as he gave himself a brief inventory. The last time they had met, he had been an imperial lieutenant with a Core accent, blonde hair, and blue eyes; the latter two he still had, the former he could adopt. The spy took a few moments to slip into the role he had played when they had met, and then got up and went over to him.

"Erich Stavan?" he asked, once he was within a metre of the man. Stavan looked up hurriedly, and when he saw Aeron standing there it was obvious that he didn't recognize him. The spy had been expecting that; he had been blessed with a lack of distinguishing features, a boon in his line of work, and the only thing that stuck out about him-his native Taramisian accent-was easily taken care of.

"How do you know me?" Stavan asked, looking him over. Then his eyes narrowed. "Wait. I know _you_. Lieutenant...Aerys. No. _Aeron._"

Well, Stavan sure hadn't lost his memory for faces, no matter how conventional. Aeron smiled, to hide his discomfort. "Right. Almost ten years and out of uniform, too," he said. "You're _good, _Commander."

Stavan opened his mouth to reply, but then another man's voice cut in. "Who's your friend, Erich?"

Aeron turned to the newcomer, and his blood froze solid when he saw that it was an ISB officer. The man held two shot glasses full of something dark red, which he set down before turning back to examine the spy. He was tallish, dark-haired, and good-looking, with a freckle low on his right cheek. Tall, dark, and handsome...and _dangerous, _Aeron was sure of that; the officer-a major-held himself like a man who knew the art of war a little too well, and even though he wasn't too heavily built, the spy could read people well enough to know that he was in very good shape and quite strong.

"M-Septimus, ah..." Stavan gestured between them. "This is Lieutenant Aeron. We've met before. Aeron, this is Major Diehl...of the ISB."

Diehl grasped Aeron's hand. "Name, rank, serial number?" he inquired. When Aeron looked nonplussed, he laughed. "Don't worry. Just an ISB joke."

_Why is Stavan working with the ISB? _Aeron wondered. He wasn't dumb enough to ask that question in front of Diehl, though, so he settled for, "Mind if I join you two?"

"Go ahead," the major told him. Stavan moved into the curve of the U-shaped seat, and Aeron sat down across from Diehl. He sipped his beer and kept his face neutral. _It's not going to be safe talking to Stavan like this. Diehl is going to want to know where I heard of the New Empire and why I want to ask Stavan about it. And Stavan might have become part of the secret police at some point. _He knew next to nothing about Stavan, only that they had both attended the imperial academy on Malador in different years. He glanced aside at him. Stavan tossed down the shot that Diehl had given him, then pushed the glass to and fro with his finger, looking down at it. Diehl drank his as well. _I'll need to get Stavan alone, _Aeron decided. _But how? _He might try to get the ISB officer too drunk to keep up with the conversation, but if Diehl was one of those men that got into a bad mood when drunk, the spy could wind up getting creamed.

He thought, and listened to the idle conversation between Stavan and Diehl-who most certainly weren't close enough to warrant both a first-name basis and clubbing together, that much was certain-and thought, and thought.

Then the answer came in the form of a Chiss girl who was being cheered on by her friends. She came up to the table and, with admirable bravado, asked the ISB officer to dance. Diehl accepted, and they went out onto the dance floor.

* * *

_He's a good dancer, _Stavan thought, watching Diehl and his partner tango. He had both balance and body-dexterity, and it looked like he had a lot of experience, maybe even training. The thought of Major Septimus Diehl of the ISB taking dance lessons amused him, and he hid a smile behind his hand.

Then he realized that Aeron was talking to him. "Hm?"

"I said I heard there were a few rumours of neo-imperials on Leto," said the blonde man. "Is that true, Commander?"

Stavan was mortified. Had Aeron heard of the debacle with Ahwil Kees? "There are no more neo-imperials on Leto," he said firmly, and turned back to watching Diehl. A circle had opened up around him and the Chiss.

"Great," said Aeron. There was something in his voice that made the commander look back at him. "Those people are making regular nuisances of themselves," he added.

"Yes, they are."

The younger officer sipped at his beer, and then leaned forward. "So did you actually _see _any-"

A young woman came up and asked Stavan out onto the dance floor. The commander gave Aeron an apologetic smile. "Excuse me," he said, accepting the girl's invitation and wriggling out of the booth to join her.

"Right," said Aeron, sitting back with a huff.

* * *

Stavan and Diehl came back a few minutes later with another round of drinks. Diehl was looser than he had been earlier, and a few strands of dark hair had fallen onto his brow. Stavan seemed more relaxed as well, and chatted more easily when they took their seats again. _Not the Stavan I remember, _Aeron thought, listening to him talk. _Something thawed the ice prince, then._ "Nice dancing," he commented.

"I'm not a great dancer," Stavan replied. "But, thank you."

"How about a game, then?" Aeron asked. "You write a person's name on a card and stick it on your forehead, and then try to guess who-"

Abruptly Diehl straightened. "_No!_"

Stavan raised one fine eyebrow. "Okay, never mind," said the spy. "I'll get the next round."

He got up and went to the bar, then diverted at the last moment and instead went to the DJ, a black creature with a long neck and a grinning mouth like an eel, who was flailing its way through a stack of discs. "Hey, mate," said the neo-imperial. "Got a proposition for you."

"E barlaxi tua?"

"A dance contest. First prize is up to a hundred credits' worth of drinks," Aeron explained, hoping that it hadn't just cursed at him. "Sound good? I'm paying, but keep it between you and me, all right?" The creature nodded, and extended a noodle-like arm for the money. The spy gave it to him. "Here. Now, dance contest in less than ten minutes, or I'll take you out back and tie ya in a knot."

"Or brrlu tu muas!"

_That _one had definitely been rude. Aeron went back to the counter and ordered three beers. While he was waiting for the bartender to draw the pints, he turned to a woman sitting on a stool nursing a fruity drink. She looked up when he addressed her. "Could I ask a favour of you, miss? There's a dance contest starting up soon. Could you ask that fellow right there-the officer in the white tunic-to dance? You'll win for sure. It's the rest of the evening's drinks for free." That wasn't quite it, but she didn't need to know it was only a hundred credits.

"Why not the other guy?" she asked, eyeing Stavan. The commander's pleasant face was the only one visible of the two of them.

"The other guy is the one _I'm _inter-" _That _sounded suspect; Aeron corrected himself. "I want to talk to his friend for a minute."

"Eh, why not," the woman decided. Aeron took the drinks and went back to the table with them.

* * *

"Your Stormtroopers are here," Stavan said to Diehl, as the lieutenant came back with a tray. Diehl followed his gaze to where a couple of men were taking their seats at a booth just within sight of their officer's table.

"You recognize them out of armour?" Diehl asked, raising an arched brow.

The commander shook his head. "No. But I know they're Stormtroopers...and they're not mine."

Diehl smiled at him. "You notice things. You ever think about joining the ISB?" A look of momentary distaste crossed Stavan's features, and he shook his head again. _So he's not with them, _Aeron thought, exulting.

"Right, you would lose your innocence," Diehl amended.

Stavan coloured. "I have no innocence to lose."

The major sat back. "Oh, really?" There was both amusement and sardonic disdain in his expression. "Do tell...and I might tell you something in return." His gaze flickered to Aeron, then back to his partner. "Later."

Stavan's jaw clenched. But before he could say anything, there came a horrendously loud voice over the microphone, announcing a dance contest. Aeron jumped, and his beer slopped over the rim of his glass. There were cheers at the announcement of the first prize. The spy leaned over to look for the woman with the fruity drink. _Come on, come on, _he thought. She was heading over to them. But she was looking at Stavan. _No, no, don't, not him! The other guy! _Aeron tried to signal with his eyes, while the two officers were distracted with each other.

Diehl was still staring wolfishly at Stavan when a hand fell on his shoulder, four bracelets clinking as it landed. He looked up.

The spy sighed with relief when the ISB officer accepted the woman's invitation and went to go dance. Once Diehl was out of earshot, Aeron leaned over and said, "Are you two on assignment here on Leto, or friends, or what?"

"I run the base. We're working together." Stavan didn't say anything more, and just sipped at his drink, watching the contest. It was difficult to see, with all the people in the way, but it looked like the first pair of dancers were making a fair run of it.

"Not friends, then."

"Not near friends." Stavan's cool blue eyes regarded the spy over the rim of his glass. "I know you're after something. What is it?"

Aeron spread his hands. "I just want to know about those rumours of neo-imperial activity."

"Fine." Stavan raised his chin. "One of the patrols caught a neo-imperial agent named Kees. He was brought back for interrogation. He gave us, even me, nothing. He was shot and killed trying to escape." The officer reached up and ran his fingers through his dark hair. "Satisfied? You don't need to know any more than that."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Aeron, lying like a rug. _Kees? Oh, too bad. He was fun, that guy. _"What about Diehl?"

The commander drained his glass, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Aeron saw that he was putting him in a bad mood, and resolved to ease up. "_Maybe_," said Stavan, tightly, "I have to work with him. _Maybe _the New Empire is getting to be a problem." He was frowning now, and a flush had crept into his cheeks.

_That sounds bad. The Captain's got to know the ISB are after them now._ "They _sound _like a problem."

Stavan was silent. Major Diehl came back then, to Aeron's frustration. "He wants to know how much of a problem the New Empire is," the commander said as the ISB officer slid in next to him, flushed from his exertions on the dance floor.

"Quite a problem." Diehl regarded Aeron silently. Maybe he already suspected that something was off, but he was keeping close to Stavan as if he had noticed Aeron's desire to talk to him privately. Not a good sign.

The ISB officer slid a red pin across the table. "We got first prize. I'll send _you _off this time," he said. "Go get another round. It's on the contest."

"Well done," Aeron heard Stavan say, as he took the pin and left them.

_I've got to get rid of that guy, _the spy thought, going to the bar. And he knew just how.

He showed the pin to the bartender and said, "Two Caerulian absinthes...and one Alacrainian."

"Alacrainian absinthe?" said the bartender. "Humans shouldn't be drinking that stuff. It's too rough on the stomach."

"I'm giving it to a Rodian."

The man nodded. "It'll take a bit to prepare. Come back in a few minutes."

Aeron went back to the table to wait. "Caerulian absinthes," he told Stavan and Diehl. "They're adding the regional flavours as we speak."

"Doesn't that drink make you hallucinate, or something?" Stavan asked.

"Just a lie," the spy told him. "Absinthe is nothing but strong liquor."

"It's fine," Diehl told Stavan. "Tastes like licorice."

"Well, that's all right, then," the commander admitted. Aeron went back to get the drinks, and came back bearing a tray with three specially-shaped glasses, each filled to the top of the bottom globe with pale green fluid, as well as three ornate spoons, three glasses of water, and three sugar cubes. He set the tray down, handed out the glasses (_Enjoy, _he thought, giving Diehl his), and settled down.

Stavan looked mildly disappointed. "I thought it glowed."

Diehl chuckled. "If it's glowing, it's radioactive." He set his spoon across the top of the glass and put the piece of sugar on it. Stavan watched as he poured the water over the sugar until it had all dissolved, and as the green fluid turned cloudy. The commander followed suit, just as Aeron did.

They drank.

"Yes...licorice," Stavan commented.

"Very strong," Diehl remarked, setting his glass down. Then he coughed, lightly. "Strongest I've tasted."

"So you're here on leave?" Stavan asked Aeron.

"Yep," the spy said. "I've got this day and the next, and then it's back to the army with me."

* * *

They chatted idly after that, and to Stavan's relief Aeron avoided the topics of the New Empire and the ISB. Stavan gradually relaxed again. Diehl's enjoyment of the night, however, seemed to be vanishing. As the conversation continued the ISB officer contributed less and less, and finally just sat quietly as the other two talked, only half listening.

"I have leave coming up as well," Stavan told Aeron. "I'm...going hiking."

"Hah," said Diehl, but his heart didn't seem to be in it. He tugged at his collar with one finger.

Stavan turned to his companion. "Major?" Diehl's lips were pressed tightly together. "Is there something wrong?"

"I don't feel well," Diehl said quietly. His shoulders had hunched a bit, and one arm was wrapped around his middle.

_Surely he has a better tolerance for alcohol than that, _the commander thought. "Would you like a tonic?"

Diehl shook his head. "No. I think...I think I should just go back to the base." He got to his feet, and then abruptly leaned on the table. Stavan caught the shine of perspiration on his skin and realized that he really was ill.

And so it was Stavan that moved to help Diehl, looping the man's arm around his shoulders for support. Not saying anything, the major let him do it. "I'm taking him home," the commander said to Aeron, who had also gotten to his feet. The younger man's expression was hard to read. "Good night."

"Aren't you giving him to the Stormtroopers?"

"_Good night, _Lieutenant. I have a sick officer to take care of." Stavan hailed Diehl's Stormtroopers, who came over. He nodded curtly to them. "Get the speeder ready. It's in the parking lot. You're driving us back to the base."

"What happened, sir?" one of the ISB troopers asked.

"He gave you an order, man," Diehl rasped. "Just...do it." Then he took a breath, as if just speaking hurt.

The Stormtroopers exchanged a look, then went out. The officers followed, unaware of Aeron's look of fury.

* * *

During the ride back nothing horrible happened, although twice Diehl had barked at them to pull over, there, by those bushes. Each time he had staggered back with a mixture of misery and relief, one hand on his abdomen.

The moonlight had kept Diehl's complexion a secret until they had returned to the base, but once they were inside Stavan saw that he was white as milk. Supporting him each step of the way, the commander took him back to his room.

He guided him over to the bed and sat him down. He reached for the major's belt, so that he could take his tunic off, but Diehl swatted his hand away and undid it himself. "I'm not drunk and I'm not a little kid," he growled. Then he sighed and shrugged out of his tunic. "Just sick to my stomach."

"How are you now?" Stavan asked.

"All right. Better." Diehl unfolded slowly onto his side. "I think somebody put something in my drink," he said softly. "Some kind of drug."

Stavan knelt at the bedside. "They weren't out of our sight."

"They were...while they were making them." Diehl's eyes closed. "Hell of a way to end a night, isn't it."

"Will you be all right on your own?"

"Fine. You don't have to stay."

Stavan got up, paused, moved the rubbish bin closer to the bed, then left the room. After he had stepped into the corridor, he snagged a passing Stormtrooper. "Johansson," he said. "Major Diehl is ill. I want you standing guard here, and to look in every now and then to see if things are all right. If anything happens, get him to the infirmary, and get me. Aurek will relieve you at five."

The trooper nodded. "Yes, sir."

He took up his place as the commander had ordered. _Yes. Hell of a way to end a night, _Stavan thought as he started down the hall.

* * *

Smoothing his cream tunic, the commander stepped past his lieutenants into the prison cell. The door closed behind him.

Time passed. From inside the cell came screams. The younger of the two men made to go in, but halted at a warning look and an outstretched arm from the older. The noises continued. The officers stood, both listening, neither of them saying anything.

Finally Lieutenant Diehl couldn't stand it any longer, and turned sharply to his partner. "Aren't we supposed to protect the prisoners?" he demanded.

The older lieutenant kept his gaze on the wall ahead of them. "Not from him," he said.

...

Major Diehl opened his eyes to find himself lying on his side on his bed, in his room at the base on Leto. He started to rise, but halted at a simultaneous headache and stomach ache. The night came crashing back over him; the partying, the conversation...the drugging. A chill prickled over his skin, and he looked to the nightstand for something to drink, knowing there wasn't anything there.

But there was. At some point someone had set a glass of water and a couple of aspirins on the little table.

_Stavan? _he wondered. _...You're kidding me, right?_

_

* * *

_

The night brought nothing unexpected, and Stavan did not get any calls from the troopers or the infirmary. But after he had gotten up and showered, he went to see how Diehl had fared.

He went in to find the man sitting up in bed with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up, sipping at the glass of water that had been left him. He was still in the dark green t-shirt he wore as an undershirt as well as his pants, but his feet were bare and the bed looked slept-in. "Don't you knock?" the ISB officer asked.

"At least you're feeling better," Stavan replied. The door slid shut behind him. "So?"

"So?" The older man set his glass down. "I feel fine now. And I won't be staying bedridden."

"Good."

"Good." Diehl chewed his lip thoughtfully.

"Something wrong?"

"No."

"I'll leave you to it, then." Stavan turned to go, but Diehl called, "Hold on." The commander looked over his shoulder.

"Why'd you do it?" Diehl asked.

Stavan turned to him. The major was watching him, his elbows resting on his knees. "You were talking to an old comrade you hadn't seen in a while. The Stormtroopers would have done their duties and taken me back. So why did _you _do it?"

The commander shrugged. "I guess it wouldn't have been right if I hadn't."

"'Wouldn't have been right?'" Diehl echoed. He straightened up at that, looking at Stavan as if he were some new creature that he had never seen before. "You're an imperial commander. What do _you _know of what's right and what's not?"

"Look, you were sick and I took you back to base," Stavan said, exasperated. Why did Diehl always have to be so combative? "If there's something wrong with that, do tell, Major, because I can't see it."

Diehl cocked his head. "There's nothing wrong with it," he replied. "But I don't see why you wanted to be nice to me like that. You've got no reason to. What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything! You don't need a _reason _to be nice, for god's sake!"

The major's hazel eyes were suspicious, but also confused. "If that were true, this galaxy would be a much nicer place to live," he shot back. "But it's not. There's more cruelty than kindness, and if you see the latter, it just means that somebody's angling for something."

"I'm sorry you developed such an outlook," Stavan said, stiffly. "Good day, Major."

He turned again to go, but Diehl said, "Hold _on _a minute." Stavan looked back to see the officer standing now, his hands on his hips and his lips pursed in thought. "So you did it just because."

"Yes."

"Hmm." It seemed to be a foreign concept to Diehl. "Well, whatever the reason, I guess I should be thanking you," the ISB officer said. "So...thank you."

Stavan nodded, and left.

* * *

It was the middle of the morning on their third day in Anatar when the knock sounded at Captain Rathbone's door, startling him out of his reverie. He got up from where he had been sitting at the window and went to the door. He opened it to find Major Kaine standing in the corridor.

"I've found the coordinates to the rebel base," Kaine said, taking in the captain's shirtsleeves and tousled hair with a sweep of his eyes.

"Oh? Capital," his commander replied, and stepped aside to let him in. The major strolled past him. "So Fenn and the others are here, I take it," he said, once the door was shut and they were standing well away from it.

"They've just touched down." Kaine turned and arched an eyebrow at the captain. "I would have thought that they'd contact you."

"I must have been in the shower when they called. Everyone else knows, then?"

Kaine's expression became thoughtful. "Yes. Everyone's ready except for you, Captain."

Rathbone went to where his ISB tunic lay flat on the side of the bed and put it on. "You shan't wait long on me," he said, slipping it on.

"No. We shan't." The major sounded annoyed. "Kaven's ordered everyone out and told Fenn where we'd meet him and his men already. He used his uniform to reserve the breakfast room for a private meeting between the ISB and a bunch of bounty hunters. Imperial business only."

He put on his belt. "This was without consulting you?"

"Yes." Kaine watched as the captain began to comb his hair. Then he dropped his gaze. "They obey him, you know," he said, finally. "Verdan and Barrie. But I ought to have been consulted. _I__'__m _their major. Unless imperial knights outrank everyone but you?"

Rank was ever a thorn in Kaine's side. The captain put a hand on his shoulder. "They don't-"

Kaine stepped back, away from him. There was a brief, odd look on his face, smothered by nonchalance a second later.

"-they _don__'__t_," Captain Rathbone finished, looking at him hard. _What was that? _The major stepped over to a painting on the wall and pretended to examine it, his back to the captain.

"I shall speak to him," the captain said, puzzled. "In the meantime, Major, go to the breakfast room and I will be by shortly."

"Yes, Captain," said the major, and left.

* * *

Erril Kaven was already sitting at the great polished mahogany table in the breakfast room along with Lieutenant Fenn and the entourage he had brought with him (three officers and half a dozen Stormtroopers; of the officers, Kaven recognized only Lugosi Gammell) when Captain Rathbone came in, along with Major Kaine and Lieutenant Barrie. Verdan was the next to enter, dressed from head to toe in form-fitting black, with a dark jacket and a pair of goggles pushed up onto his dark hair.

"That's not a bounty hunter I'd want after me," Kaven whispered to Snake-Eyes, who was sitting on his right. The head of intelligence smiled and nodded. He was in uniform as usual, except for his missing cap, and a pair of rectangular sunglasses sat on his nose, hiding his yellow eyes from view.

"Berkeley is still at the clinic," the knight told the captain, when the older man took his seat on Kaven's left. "He'll be ready to go after his bacta treatment's done for the day. We're to keep it up until his leg is fine."

Once everyone had been seated, Fenn looked around himself at what appeared to be four ISB officers, a couple of squads of Stormtroopers, and a host of bounty hunters, and said mildly, "I never thought I'd see the day when I sat down to breakfast with people like you."

Barrie folded her hands on the table. "Name, rank, serial number? Name of father, name of mother?" There were a few scattered, uneasy chuckles; that one had been a little too close to home.

"Good to see you're in one piece, sir," Lieutenant Gammell said to the captain. "And the rest of you, too."

Snake-Eyes reached into his pocket and drew out a stack of coordinate-cards, which he fanned out in his hands as if they were playing cards. Kaven looked curiously at them. They were blank and white, about the _size _of cards, but stiff and a couple of millimetres thick. "As promised," Fenn said. "After breakfast I'll get them around to the ships." With a snap of his wrist they were all back together again, and the lieutenant's hand disappeared beneath the table. Kaven wondered if Fenn weren't a master at cheating at cards.

"Now," said the head of intelligence, "Tell us about Torek."

* * *

Breakfast arrived, and over a feast of toast, eggs, sausages, bacon, waffles, omelettes, and croissants stories flew back and forth. The detailed map of Canaida was proceeding, and Daemmrung was looking like a good place to set up camp; Captain Ellery was putting together a better and better map of neo-imperial space, and more plants and animals in those territories had been discovered and named than everyone in the breakfast room could count on their fingers combined.

The attack on Mustafar and Mernall came up..._after, _to Kaine's irritation, Captain Rathbone had looked to Kaven for confirmation. The knight had nodded, and Kaine had thought: _Why __**him?**__ He's just a knight, we've all been here longer than him, so why __**him? **_If he had only stopped to think a moment, he would have realized that all Kaven had done was look to the Force to see if there was anyone listening in on the 'ISB meeting' and had only confirmed that it was safe to mention the attack, but jealousy was not something that was more than passing familiar with reason, and the major had glowered silently into his coffee cup all the while.

"We'll get what information we can," Snake-Eyes said, after he had heard the plan. He had pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair, and looked now more like a Fenn in uniform than a proper imperial officer. His eyes narrowed, and he hissed softly in thought. "This one's going to be tough...if anyone's captured..."

"No one will be captured," Kaven said. "Not those under _me._"

"And not those under me," Captain Rathbone echoed.

_What a pair you two make._ Kaine picked at his omelette and said, "And not those under me..._or _over me."

"Agreed," said Verdan, and Barrie echoed him.

Snake-Eyes looked pained. "If you insist on this attack..." he began, but then just shook his head and drowned his words in his juice instead.

"They would never stoop to treating with us," Captain Rathbone told him. "You, of all people, know _that _well."

The hacker looked off into space, perhaps remembering a small room and a hot light and an officer in white. "Yeah," he said eventually. "Yeah. I suppose I do."

* * *

After breakfast they paid their bills, collected Berkeley, and boarded their motley collection of ships after Fenn had distributed the cards among them. They had left Odaris without incident after that, for which Captain Rathbone had audibly thanked his lucky stars.

Now Major Kaine stood in the magazine of the ISB operations ship, looking over the variety of blasters contained there. Large and small, painful to lethal, standard to exotic. Kaine was not a man that was particularly interested in firearms, but the strangeness of some of these intrigued him, and he was bored, and they needed an inventory in any case, so why not?

He put an overlarge and monstrously heavy rifle back into its case, then opened a smaller case to reveal a blaster pistol with a long and curiously thin barrel. He looked it over a moment, then saw a short, tubelike thing that had been included in the box along with it. He picked it up, turning it this way and that. There was a small switch near one end, and little grooves and tabs on the inside-it was meant to be clipped onto something. It looked sort of like a silencer, but-a silencer? For a _blaster_?

There was a small bit of paper in the box. Kaine unfolded it and read. The thing was an experimental unit, and it and the pistol had been made for each other. There were instructions for its use, and he looked them over as well.

Then he smiled and took the pistol, and the silencer along with it.

* * *

It was mid morning on Leto.

"The shuttle is prepared, Commander," Major von Hammerstein said, when he had caught Stavan walking down the hall from his quarters with a backpack in his hand.

"Thank you. Where is Major Diehl?"

"The major is relaxing in the officers' lounge down the hall, sir."

_Diehl never relaxes. _"Very well. If anything comes up, you know how to contact me." Stavan parted from him, and went into the lounge.

It was a room where officers could relax after getting off duty, and it was equipped with a holoplayer and small bar, among other things. It was empty now except for Major Diehl, who was sitting lost in thought with a tumbler sitting mostly empty before him on the table and a bottle of brandy at his elbow.

At the sound of the door sliding open Diehl looked up and, seeing Stavan there, gave him a faint and crooked smile. He thumped a hand on the table. "Commere," he said. "Have a drink with me. Or just sit there. Whatever. I don't like drinking alone. But safer than drinking in a crowd, eh?" He gave Stavan a knowing look. "Learned _that _the other night, didn't I."

_It scared him, _Stavan thought. _Getting drugged like that. _He took his seat at the table. _But then, if that had been me...it would scare me, too._ "Isn't it a little early in the morning?" he asked, looking at the tumbler.

Diehl gave him an annoyed look. "I've had half a glass, and half a glass more is all I'll have. I'm not planning on getting plastered, you know." He got up and went to the cupboard, taking out another tumbler. "Anyway, it's got to be happy hour _somewhere._"

He came back and took his seat again, then gave Stavan a long, considering look. The commander waited. The silence stretched out, growing uncomfortable.

"Glad you were there," Diehl said quietly...and then brusquely thrust the glass across the table at him, dropping his gaze as he poured Stavan a drink. "So you're going to Mobius," he said. "Should we fix you up with a nice little red riding hood?"

Stavan blew a sigh through his nose. "No, thank you, I'll be quite all right," he told him.

Diehl reached into his pocket and took out what looked like a tiny datapad, and pushed it across the table towards the commander. Stavan picked it up. There was a little keypad and screen, like a cellular phone. "Looks like a Chokecherry," he remarked, turning it on.

"I've got one that's mated to yours. You can call me with it, but I've restricted your calls to me and me alone, and you can also send typed messages. I want you sending one every now and then, once or twice a day is fine. You know why." The ISB officer pointed at the thing. "Its reception is perfect, but I heard it starts crackling if ghosts are around."

"Seriously?"

"It's a _rumour. _I didn't come up with it. So stay out of any haunted houses you find, Stavan."

"All right." Stavan fiddled with the device. "What, no camera feature?"

Diehl sat back. "What more do you want? I've already got a friend with a bad habit of sending me pictures of her cat at three in the morning-I don't need _you _doing the same thing with giant wolves."

The younger man turned the faux-Chokecherry off and put it into his pocket. They drank in silence for a few minutes, and then Diehl asked, "So why do you want to go to Mobius so badly?"

"Oh, I don't know. I've been dreaming about it, and...maybe if I knew more about Captain Rathbone, maybe I could see from his point of view." Stavan ran a hand through his hair, making a few black locks stand on end. "But I think I ought to go there, like I'll find something...important."

The ISB officer rested his chin in his palm. "Force-sensitive, are we?"

Stavan sat up in alarm. "Oh, no! No, I'm not, I'm just like any other officer!"

Diehl waved a hand. "All right," he said. "You're not. Besides, if you were Force-sensitive you'd probably get snapped up by the Reborn or something."

"Or executed as a Jedi," Stavan replied.

"Yes. Executed." The major took a sip of his drink. "The Empire loves its executions. Tell me, have you ever seen one in action?"

The commander cocked his head. "Yes," he said. "There was a rebel caught once, and taken to my commander. After they had broken him in interrogation he had been executed. The IT-O droid gave him a lethal injection."

Diehl snorted. "How about one on a larger scale?"

Stavan didn't answer. But Diehl saw the answer in his face, and whistled a few bars from _The Ghosts of Alderaan. _Stavan knew the tune well; he had often heard the song used as a call for people to join the Rebellion against the Empire. It had been banned, of course, but that didn't stop a melody...

"I didn't mean that many," Diehl said, after the whistle had died and the room had been left silent again. "I meant...the _smaller _ones."

_The ones you hear the ISB committing, _Stavan thought. _The ones where they, they line people up, and... _He shook his head.

"Hope that you never do," the older man said, forcefully.

"You've seen...?"

"Remember what I said about loss of innocence? Yes." Diehl finished his brandy and got to his feet. "Commander Stavan, you may think you're not so innocent," he said, stooping to retrieve Stavan's backpack, "but compared to me...you're a frigging _angel._"

Then he handed the bag to Stavan. "Go. Enjoy your leave."

Stavan took it and hurried out.

* * *

Something was going on above Tel Sharis. Flashes of light snapped and spat every now and then in the deep blue of the sky, and Lambda Station had not yet replied to the base's inquiries. Admiral Dyer's fleet had also been ominously silent. Finally Commander Dias had sent a scout ship to find out what was going on up there.

The pilot had reported back promptly. "Sir," she had said. "It's the ISB."

Not long after that a transmission had come down to the base from the admiral's ship, the _Sagittarius, _demanding their surrender, that they lay down their arms and submit to the security bureau. Knowing they were in a good position to bomb the base flat if their demands were not met, Dias had agreed...and then given the order for the base to be emptied, most of its personnel gone into the jungle at the fallback locations they had staked out, including an old, abandoned base and a series of grottos in the mountains, where it would be easier to defend themselves.

Commander Dias had been on the verge of leaving as well, but now he stood between two of his Stormtroopers as a commander from the security bureau came, followed by two squads of troopers and a pair of guards, behind whom someone else walked, obscured by the two men in front of them. Many more Stormtroopers were coming off of troop transports behind them, hundreds of troopers.

The ISB commander was thin and grey-eyed, with a hard face. He glanced around as they approached Dias and his men. "There are too few personnel here," he said, coming to a halt. "Tel Sharis does not have a skeleton crew. Where are your men?"

"The rest of the personnel that were here are now occupying Sonalia," Dias answered.

He was treated to a cold look in return. "Not so," the ISB officer replied, then glanced aside. "Admiral. What say you?"

The two guards stepped aside, and a pit opened up in the bottom of Dias' stomach when he saw that it was Admiral Dyer between them. "There should be twice this many," the admiral said. "He probably sent them off into the jungle."

Dias looked at the way the naval officer was standing, not tense, not frightened as if he were standing among enemies, and realized that he had gone turncoat. Dyer's blue eyes looked neutrally back at him, and he gave the smallest of shrugs. _Traitor! Bloody traitor! _"What is the meaning of this, Commander?" Dias asked, keeping his voice calm and level, although his mind continued to scream at the admiral.

"You neo-imperials," said the ISB commander, "are now under arrest."

"I am not a neo-imperial, Commander."

"He is." The Stormtrooper on Dias' right spoke up suddenly. "He took a message from one of Admiral Makar's men only a few days ago, sir."

"Damn you," Dias said. "_Damn _you."

The white-coated commander laughed and clapped his hands together. "That's almost better than a confession," he said, and looked to the Stormtrooper sergeants flanking him. "Start rounding up everyone on base."

The sergeants nodded. "We'll see what will lure the rest out of hiding soon enough," the officer added. He turned to give a signal to his men.

At that moment Dias went for his blaster, but he had not managed to draw it before a flash of white moved at the corner of his eye and something hard smashed him around the ear. The world became an explosion of hot red sparks, and as he fell forward onto the ferrocrete, the last things he saw were the first shots fired.

* * *

_Battle of the granddads, _thought Madeen, as she stood on the bridge of the _Imperial Dawn _watching the exchange between Admiral Makar and the ISB officer, Major Sturm. On the video screen Sturm looked around the admiral's age, with arched eyebrows that were still black, and a neat little moustache. He was narrow where Admiral Makar was plump, and stern where the admiral was jocular. To the bounty hunter they both looked like grandfathers, but one looked more liable to give his grandchildren candy and let them stay up an extra hour later than the other did.

"We will not submit, Major," said the admiral, tapping his cane on the floor. The bridge was curiously silent, each officer in it trying to do their duties as quietly as possible for the purpose to listening in on the conversation. Outside the viewports the ISB's Star Destroyer loomed, huge and pale in the darkness of space. There were two others flanking it.

"_The New Empire will fall into the hands of the bureau soon enough,_" Major Sturm replied. "_Admiral. If you wish to save a great deal of bloodshed, it would be better for you to give yourself over to us._"

"There will be bloodshed if we _do _give ourselves up, Major, and you know that quite as well as I do." Admiral Makar smiled. "On the contrary, why don't _you _join _us?_"

The ISB officer's dark eyebrows raised. "_What? Ridiculous. You could not possibly expect-_"

The admiral spread his hands. "We just cannot see eye-to-eye, can we? You won't join us, we won't submit to you, you don't like our notions, and we, in fact, do not like yours. No, Major Sturm. You will find no surrender here."

"_You must understand-_" But whatever Sturm had to say was cut off as someone else elbowed him aside. It was a huge Chistori, with green and grey skin and large, cold yellow eyes. He wore a black tunic, bound at the waist with a belt of dark red leather, and a black cloak was thrown over the ensemble. Everything screamed _trouble _to Madeen.

"_You do not understand the situation, Admiral_," the Chistori said. His voice was smooth and deep. "_We are offering you a chance to avoid your own destruction. If you were to surrender Lee Rathbone, Aedin Demarco, and Erril Kaven to us, we will spare you and your men and you will be allowed to remain in the Empire. If not...make no mistake, we __**will **__destroy you._"

At the last he raised one hand in a crushing gesture, and Madeen caught a glimpse of a lightsaber at his hip. A story she had once heard whispered through the back of her mind, and she started toward the admiral.

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," the admiral told the Chistori. "But the answer is still no." The Chistori's-the _Dark Jedi's_-eyes narrowed, and he began to raise his hand again, this time as if he were making to grasp something. "In fact, I would like to say-"

Madeen ran the last couple of steps, and switched the screen off.

Admiral Makar's mouth shut, and he turned to her. "The first time in my life I have an opportunity to say something truly rude to the ISB, and you _switch the screen off?_"

"That guy would have strangled you through the screen," the bounty hunter pointed out. "He's a Dark Jedi."

The old man nodded, then turned back to the bridge at large. "Stone!" he barked. "Set a course for anywhere but here-Auril sector, Bak'rofsen system. We'll go there. Relay the coordinates. You, there! Are the shields up?"

"Yes, sir!" The bridge was a flurry of activity. There were a few minutes of frantic clicking and tacking from the officers in the bridge pits, and then Lieutenant Fell glanced out the viewport and saw the flashes of light.

"They're firing!" he called. And the Destroyer shook as a volley of shots slammed into its side. The shields had been at maximum power ever since the ISB ship had come out of hyperspace. They held, and a moment later there was an answering volley from the _Praetorian. _The two frigates were the next to answer, and the _Imperial Dawn _began to fire back as well. Fell looked out the window. "They're loosing TIES," he said. "Four squadrons...five..."

"All ready, sir!" called Lieutenant Stone, from the navigator's console.

"Make the jump," said the admiral.

"Yes, sir!"

There was a moment's pause, and then the stars began to blur, stretching out to long stripes, and then they were away, escaped, flying through hyperspace.

* * *

"_Damn_," Hrakis growled, pounding a fist on the console as Admiral Makar's fleet disappeared into hyperspace. "Find them. Trace them!"

"Lord Hrakis," said an officer in the bridge pit. "We've intercepted a radio message." The Dark Jedi turned to him in a swirl of black cloak.

"They've gone to the Bak'rofsen system," a younger officer added, one hand on his headset.

Hrakis grinned. "Good. We'll follow them there, and-"

"Wait," said Major Sturm. Frowning, the Chistori turned to him. "They've proven their mobility," the old man continued. "If we engage them in the Bak'rofsen system, they will surely go to hyperspace again, and continue in such a vein until we lose their trail completely. Can you hold them in place with the Force, my lord? The whole fleet? I don't think so."

Hrakis ground his teeth. Without waiting for his answer, Sturm added, "I suggest we use an Interdictor. It may force a surrender from them."

"You are too gentle," said the Dark Jedi...but he nodded his assent. "Get me an Interdictor ship. Within the week I mean to have Admiral Makar in my grasp."

* * *

The two men went into Captain Rathbone's office, and when the door had shut behind them Demarco said, "You worried me." _You do that a lot, _he added reproachfully, in the privacy of his own mind. He didn't understand why the captain insisted on doing such things himself, when he was the man that everyone wanted to catch. He _said _that he trusted Demarco, trusted him with his life, and yet...sometimes it didn't seem that way. The younger captain often wondered if Lee Rathbone really trusted anyone.

"I hadn't intended it," the older man replied. At a gesture from the captain, Demarco took a seat on the small couch. Captain Rathbone sat down in his own chair and swivelled to face his second in command. "The ISB has installations on Mustafar and Mernall," he said quietly. "We are going to attack them."

Demarco's brow knit. "That would slow their investigations, but if they took anyone prisoner...it would only speed them up."

Captain Rathbone was biting his lip. When he caught Demarco looking hard at him, he stopped immediately and put on the mask of a faction leader once again. "I will be sending Erril to Mustafar along with a battalion of Stormtroopers," he said. "I want the officers that go with him to be our most level-headed, and his Stormtroopers must be the most disciplined ones that we have."

"You're thinking about how he...leaks...in the Force." Demarco frowned. "Perhaps we should keep him here, away from the fighting."

Rathbone shook his head. "I can't do that. He is most insistent, and relations have been already strained between us as of late. I don't need to make them worse by refusing him after I've already agreed to let him go."

"Who is going to Mernall?" Demarco asked, though he suspected that he already knew the answer. The captain gave the expected answer. "Why not me instead? Why you? Why is it always _you _that puts himself on the spot, that always has to...put himself in the middle of things?" Demarco's voice was rising. He checked it. "We have good commanders on our side who could lead the attack in your stead," he murmured. "Captain, why must you be the one to lead us in this?"

"I wish I could tell you," Captain Rathbone said.

_He's hiding something. He hides so much, even from me. _"Do you really want to die so much?" he heard himself ask.

The captain sat up straight in his chair as if Demarco had slapped him. His second straightened as well. For a long time neither of them spoke.

Finally the older man said, "You know, perhaps once upon a time..."

Then he stood up abruptly and went to the window, looking out at the snowy landscape. "I want Lieutenant Verdan and the Revenants on Mustafar, as well as Captain Lannister," he continued, as if the last exchange had never happened. "Major Kaine will have all the action he's wanted and more, but I would sooner join the Rebellion than allow him to go with Erril. He goes to Mernall, with _me._"

_Better that _I _should go with you, _thought Demarco. Kaine was competent enough as an officer, but the young captain had seen the looks he had sometimes given Captain Rathbone. _But better that he be with you and not Erril. _Demarco was certain that Kaine hated Kaven. The major would smile and chat with the imperial knight, but there was poison behind the smile and prurience behind the words.

"Help me plan," Captain Rathbone said.

"As you wish, sir," Demarco replied.

* * *

Erich Stavan inhaled the warm, pleasant aroma of the coffee as he finished filling his thermos. "So you're going hiking around the Stanes?" the shopkeeper asked, as he screwed the lid of the thing back on. "I didn't take you for an outdoorsy type. More like someone to sit in a cafe and play computer of an afternoon than to sleep on the ground and let the bugs bite him."

Stavan smiled. "Usually it _is _the former," he said. He was always glad to be in civilian dress, to be just a man for a while instead of an imperial officer. People spoke to him differently; they were more relaxed, more personable, less..._wary _of him, in general. He felt younger as well, as if taking off the uniform made the link to more innocent days a little stronger.

_Commander Stavan, you may think you're not so innocent, _Diehl had told him, _But compared to me...you're a frigging _angel.

The officer absentmindedly took a few wrapped sandwiches from their place on the shelf. _Maybe it's because _he's _not here, _he thought, brushing his dark woollen coat aside to get to his pocket. He could relax more without Diehl's sardonic amusement and megawatt stares, those stares that seemed to burn holes right through you.

...those stares...

Stavan looked up. The shopkeeper was giving him an odd look. He followed the man's gaze to his own hip, and then he saw what had caught his attention: the blaster holstered at his hip, under his coat.

"It's all right," he said, gently. "I'm with the military."

"I...would not have guessed."

And there it was. Stavan felt something change in the air, in the ether, in the F...in the ether. _I wonder if the rebels get this, too, _he thought. But more likely they got smiles. "I'm not a Mobian," he said. "Is there anything I should know about before I go?"

"Don't go rooting around in any caves in the Stanes," a woman's voice said, and Stavan looked up to see a waitress, an Arkanian offshoot, returning from where she had been serving coffee to a trio of teenagers in the corner. She was very pretty, with long pale hair and blue eyes, such blue eyes, and for a second, for just the _barest _second, Stavan thought: _It can't be-_

-and then rationality intervened and the moment of intense familiarity melted away. He looked back down at the counter, feeling colour rise in his cheeks. "What live in the caves?" he asked.

"Mostly smaller things, but you could find a basilisk. They say they'll eat people."

Stavan tucked his coat tighter around himself. _Do I really want to go to the Stanes? _he wondered. But he knew he had to. "Basilisks...giant snakes, you mean? Or poisonous lizards?"

"Not on Mobius. They're giant lizards with sharp frills on their backs...look them in the eye and they'll hypnotize you." The waitress pointed at an enormous horn that was just over a metre long, mounted on the wall near the entrance of the cafe. "That's a _nose_-horn off one of them."

"The Lizard Queen, the kid called it," the cafe owner murmured. Stavan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Years ago, after the Clone Wars and the last fimbulwinter finally ended, basilisks started making trouble, going out farther to search for food. There were bounties posted on them, but they're hard to kill-blasters don't pierce their skin easily-and we didn't get many until some skinny twentysomething came in and brought horns with him. He wanted a bonus for the huge horn, and...well...I gave it to him." He shrugged. "He looked like he really needed the money. He was so thin and his robes were so patched...what _else _was I to do, eh?"

"Are there many basilisks now?"

The older man shook his head. "No. No, they stay underground until it gets warmer. It's still too cold out for them. But...as Shan said. Don't go wandering into any caves on your own. They say there's a whole 'nother world under the Stanes, and a labyrinth of caverns."

Shan. Even her _name _was close, the commander thought. He nodded and paid for his things, and stepped back out into Johanneston. Like Ferriston, there were no humanoid droids (they'd had enough of the B1s during the Clone Wars, Stavan decided), but unlike Ferriston certain parts of the city had been bombed to nothing during the war and rebuilt with conspicuously newfangled buildings. Over all that he could see the Stanes Mountains beyond the great forest to the east and the northeast; majestic, blue-tinged, the higher peaks of the range ringed with clouds...and all of it rather scarier now that he knew of the basilisks.

_I must do this, _Stavan reminded himself, and set out for the mountains.

* * *

He had gotten a map of the hiking trails at the inn he had checked into the day before, and the people there had been good enough to upload the program into the faux-Chokecherry Diehl had given him.

It was surprising how noisy the forest was, Stavan reflected, as he walked along the first of many trails. He tended to think of woods as quiet places, but here birds sang and cawed and quorked, and small animals chattered in the distance. There were rustlings in the underbrush, which had at first made the urban-raised officer wary, but when things consistently failed to jump out at him he wrote the rustlings off as small animals and no longer reached for his blaster at a noise.

After a couple of hours of hiking there came a brief crackle from his coat pocket, but after that short bit of static there was nothing. Figuring that it was early evening on Leto (it was nearing noon here), he plucked the Chokecherry from his pocket and called Diehl. The reception was as good as the ISB officer had told him it was, and after he had finished he put the device away.

Sometime in the early afternoon he sat down on a fallen tree to rest. _What could I hope to find here? _he thought, looking around himself. The ground here was spongy under his feet, and small patches of snow still lingered here and there. A tiny stream ran west through the clearing, downhill even though Stavan hadn't noticed any real change in altitude.

After he had rested enough he got up and took up the trail again. When it had grown dark he set up camp, pitching a small tent and settling down with a portable heater going and his blaster within easy reach. Nothing bothered him during the night, and early the next morning he set out again.

Military stamina served him well, and he made good progress through the woods. The day was pleasant and the cool smell of melting snow and the sharper scent of pine was in the air. He thought less and less of the ISB and the New Empire as he went. Sometime in the afternoon he met up with a pair of hikers and talked with them for a while before going on his way.

Some combination of the clean air, the scent of pine and snow, the walking, and the sunlight lightened Stavan's mood to an almost buoyant degree, and he felt glad that he had chosen to come here. It felt good to get out, to get away from the base and the ISB and the mass of conspiracies that was the Empire these days. Many times that day he smiled just for the sake of smiling, and even Diehl had remarked on his mood when he had called in.

On the third day he crossed a wide shallow river, using a series of rocks jutting up from the water as stepping stones. By then the trail was getting rougher, the altitude higher, and on the fourth day he was climbing half as much as he was walking.

It was growing closer to evening on the fourth day when the Chokecherry started crackling, and this time it kept on crackling even when Stavan lifted it curiously from his pocket. "I thought your reception was supposed to be perfect," he murmured, moving north along a narrow, seldom-used path. The device got louder and louder. Finally it got to emitting static so loud that Stavan took off his scarf and wrapped it around the thing to try to muffle it. That didn't work, and after a while he sent a message to Diehl in frustration. _Your bloody Chokecherry is breaking my eardrums. _That didn't accomplish anything, but it made him feel a little better.

He had only gone another twenty metres before the static reached a crescendo, and at that moment the Chokecherry rang. Stavan felt a brief, weird chill, as if something cold had just passed through him. He tamped that feeling down as he answered the call. "So you got my message, did you?" he asked.

"_Roger that, sir,_" a man's voice said. "_They're up on the ridge. Nafein took their padawan and is running-_" There was a burst and crackle, and what sounded like blaster fire and men shouting in the background.

"What?" Stavan asked. "Diehl? Is that you? What's happening?"

Hiss, crackle. "_-master killed nearly a dozen before they-_" More static. "_-eia's down, don't want to kill Lee, but he's-_" There was more interference. "_-took off-_"

"Is the base under attack!" the commander demanded. "Who _is _this?"

"_Master Nafein!_" It was a different man this time; not a man, but a boy, a teenager. "_Why are you doing this? We were-_" Hiss, crackle. "_-your side!_" There were more blaster shots, along with something that sounded like a lightsaber. "_-no better than those droids!_"

"_Get the padawan,_" another man said. "_He's-six clones-heading for-tains. Wait, Nafein is ali-_" A burst of static obliterated his words. Now a different man spoke, over the sound of blasters. "_Lee, RUN!_"

And then it was over, and Stavan stood in a suddenly silent clearing.

He looked down at the device. _Clones? _he thought. _Clone Wars? It couldn't be..._

_I heard it starts crackling if ghosts are around, _Diehl had told him.

"The last thing I need is to dredge up ghosts," Stavan muttered to himself. "But...Lee...?"

The Chokecherry rang again, and the officer jumped. Hesitantly, he answered it. "Ah...hello?"

"_Stavan,_" said Major Septimus Diehl. "_What was with that creepy message?_"

Stavan was bewildered. "What creepy message?"

"_You sent me a message a few minutes ago, and then called someone. Who did you call?_"

"I didn't call anyone! I _can't _call anyone but you!"

"_Oh, so you tried?_"Diehl sounded annoyed and suspicious. "_Why did I get a busy signal?_"

"Look, I don't know. The phone was crackling. What was so creepy about the message?"

"_So 'I just killed one of my clones' is sunshine and rainbows?_" Diehl asked. "_Did you run into your evil twin, or did you just get a morbid turn of mind?_"

Stavan paused. _I just killed one of my clones? _"I didn't send you that message," he said. "I never said that. I don't have-oh, never mind. I said your Chokecherry was breaking my eardrums. It was crackling."

There was a long silence from Diehl. "_Is there someone else with you?_"

"No." Stavan thought of the cold feeling he had gotten when the phone rang. Why couldn't Diehl just have given him a holoprojector? "There's no one else here. No one that I can see."

"_No one that you...oh. I see. You're cavorting with ghosts._" The major sighed, irritated. "_Good _night, _Stavan._"

"Wait, I-" But Diehl had hung up on him. Stavan sat down on a low round rock covered with moss. _What the hell is going on? _he wondered. _I didn't send him that message. I wouldn't._ Was it actually possible for something like the Chokecherry to pick up messages from, from the past or the underworld or the spirit world or beyond the veil or from wherever it was that that message had just come? Diehl wouldn't be screwing with him like that, and there hadn't been any recordings on the device when he had given it to Stavan.

He put the thing back in his pocket, and plucked idly at the moss with his free hand. "But I don't believe in ghosts," he said to himself. "So where did that recording come from?" Somebody had to be playing with him, but...who could it be? Or had there somehow been interference just then, and he had picked up a stray radio signal? But still, the _message..._

His fingers rubbed something too smooth to be stone. He looked down and saw a flash of white under the dirt below the moss. He got up and turned around, looking hard at the rock. There came a faint crackle from his pocket. He pulled more of the moss off, knelt and levered it up out of the dirt until he could see what it was. And then he sat back on his knees.

It was a Clone Trooper's helmet.

* * *

"...and after they're in the ravine, the lieutenants and their men will take them from either side," the captain said, pointing to the map display on the board.

"Why not just bombard the place?" Colonel Fyren asked. "The lesson would get taught without setting a foot on Mernall."

Captain Rathbone pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know our policy on planetary bombardment," he said. "There is an environmental cost as well as ethical. No bombardments."

"Not to mention we haven't much naval power," Major Kaine added, looking at the captain.

The group of senior officers was clustered around the map display table in the war room, discussing the best way to take the ISB at minimal cost. They had been at it for some time, and the room had gotten uncomfortably warm. The captain had removed his tunic, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to the elbows. His grey hair had grown tousled from running his fingers through it. _He looks younger when he's dressed down, _Kaine thought, and shifted.

"What about bringing Jan Kaven as well?" he asked. "Getting both of our knights into play?"

"Jan Kaven's not even finished training," said Major Rose. He had wavy hair of a deep red hue worthy of his name. Kaine decided that he dyed it. "He's less a knight than a pawn still."

"I was asking Captain _Rathbone, _not you," Kaine replied, annoyed. "All right. He's in training. Forget I asked." Rose smiled. "So we'll be short a knight. Good thing we've got plenty of queens."

"Are you talking about yourself, Kaine?" the redhead asked, sharply.

It might have been Major Rose who had a reputation for being hot-tempered, but now Kaine flared up. "What's _that _supposed to mean?" he demanded. "I'll have you know-"

"Guys, shut _up, _would you?" Captain Rathbone asked, leaning on the table. When they all looked at him, he drew himself up and added, "I mean...enough, gentlemen. We have an attack to plan."

Kaine subsided, but gave Rose a dark look as they settled back into the meeting.

* * *

"That settles it," Admiral Makar said, once the last of the messages had been sent. He leaned past Captain Bast and turned on the ship's intercom. "Attention all personnel," he said. "This is Admiral Alan Makar. All pilots are to assemble in the main hangar immediately." He switched it off.

"Then it's time...?" the captain asked.

"Yes."

"Shall I set the course for the Tel Nor system, Admiral?" asked Lieutenant Stone, from where he sat at the navigator's station.

"Not yet." The old man left the bridge then, and Lieutenant Fell fell into step behind him.

They had gotten a transmission from Tel Sharis that had been nearly unintelligible with interference. The ISB were there, Admiral Dyer had turned traitor, Commander Dias had been taken prisoner, the neo-imperials that had not gotten themselves killed in the initial fighting were hiding out somewhere in the jungle, and, in short, everything had gone to hell.

The corridor was silent save for the steady _click-click _of Makar's cane and the distant thrum of the engines. Lieutenant Fell knew better than to say anything, but when the hangar door slid open he could not stop a surprised "Oh!" from slipping out at the sight that awaited them.

Admiral Makar came to a halt. "What in the...?" he began.

All of the pilots were assembled and standing at attention in neat rows, each flight officer standing by their squadron, but that was not what had caught the admiral's attention. It was...the TIEs.

Sometime during the last couple of days all of the TIE ships had been painted away from their standard grey, and now a veritable rainbow of Starfighters surrounded him. There were reds, there were blues, there were yellows and greens and pinks and purples and even whites with red swirls like mint candies. The admiral gestured with his cane toward the riot of colour and demanded, "All right, what's this all about?"

"It's to distinguish us, sir," said a flight officer.

The old man ran an eye over a hot-pink TIE Bomber. "Doesn't look very distinguished to _me_," he remarked.

"The ISB will be using the same types of ships that we do, Admiral," explained the flight officer, who was standing with the forest-green squadron. "In the chaos of the battlefield it would be difficult to tell friends from enemies, and there might be...accidents in the heat of the moment. So we had our ships marked off by colour."

"Shoot all the greys." The old man nodded. "Yes, I see. This washes off, I hope...?" There were murmurs of confirmation from the pilots. From behind the admiral, Fell was looking over the rainbow of TIEs with amazement.

The admiral strode to the centre of the line-up, then turned to address them all. "Soon we will be returning to Tel Sharis," he said, raising his voice. "The Imperial Security Bureau is currently holding the planet. Our objective is to rescue our own and get out of there. The opposition is heavy; we will be facing Admiral Lon Dyer's fleet as well as the one belonging to the ISB, and I would not be surprised if the fleet that has been following us around appears as well."

"We'll be outnumbered by that much...?" Lieutenant Bryn Shar's face was forcibly neutral, though a line had appeared at the side of her mouth. She was the leader of the red squadron.

"Yes." Admiral Makar tapped his cane on the floor. "Your first briefing will be at 1300 hours..."

"Your orders, Admiral?" Captain Bast asked later on, once his superior had returned to the control bridge.

"We've got a contact to meet," the admiral told him. Then he turned to his navigator. "Lieutenant Stone. Set a course for Nar Shaddaa."

* * *

"So how did I do?" Kaven asked Demarco, once the strategy meeting was over and the two of them were alone in the war room.

"You did well." Demarco was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The younger captain had been counselling Kaven all the while they had been planning the attack on Mustafar; the pilot might be one of their knights, but he had been with the navy, not the army, and land battles were not space battles. "You'll have good officers with you...and good soldiers as well."

Demarco seemed distracted by something. "What about you?" the knight asked. "You're staying on Canaida as usual, aren't you?"

"Someone needs to run the New Empire."

Kaven ran a finger over the holograph board they used to examine maps. "You'd rather be the one going to Mernall instead of Captain Rathbone," he said.

Demarco straightened. "I _should _be the one going," he said. "He's our leader, he should be _here_. He has a reason for it, I'm sure, but..."

Kaven turned to him. The captain was frowning. "You can tell me," the pilot told him.

The young man was silent for a while; and then he said, quietly, "Sometimes I get the feeling that he's grooming me for command. Getting me used to leading this faction. That I might be the only leader we have someday. And that worries me, Erril."

The memory of a dream came back to the knight at that. He recalled vaguely a crowd of people, slaves, human and alien, all bowing before the young captain. Kaven had been standing beside Demarco, but now he found that he couldn't remember if Captain Rathbone had been there or not. _I can't just tell him that, though. _"I doubt the captain's going to leave us," he said instead.

"Hah. Not if he has a choice about it." Demarco reached up and ran a hand through his thick black hair. Then he looked at Kaven. "Erril. Once you've finished your...business...on Mustafar, I want you to proceed immediately to Mernall to join up with Captain Rathbone and his men," he said, with iron in his tone. "Protect him like you would your own brother."

_Like I would my own brother. _Kaven nodded solemnly.

"And," Demarco continued, "don't tell him my order, in case he decides to override it."

"I won't." The pilot went to him and slipped an arm around his shoulders, then steered him toward the door. "Come on. We've been in here all morning," he said. "It's time we thought about lunch."

* * *

Stavan did not pick up any more messages on the Chokecherry, though a few times it crackled. Each time it did, he hurried on, and by midday of the day after he had found the Clone Trooper's helmet, he was in the Stanes.

He sat down on a large rock and looked up at the mountains. Here they seemed to tower over the world, and their highest summits disappeared into the clouds. There was a ridge high over Stavan's head, and a winding path led up the mountainside.

_Was Rathbone ever here? _he wondered, unwrapping a sandwich. _I know the Jedi that served here, at least by name. Freia and Nafein. But who was the padawan? _What _is a padawan? _The commander nibbled at his lunch as he thought, and a shadow passed overhead. _So, say the Lee in that message was Lee Rathbone. Why would the clones try to kill him? He must have been defending the Jedi. Wait, if it was him, would that mean that he was with the Grand Army of the Republic and not the youth militia? But he would have been too young, and neither clone nor Jedi._

"Maybe he lied about his age," Stavan mused aloud. In his distraction he hadn't heard the flap of leathery wings, and when something squeaked at him he nearly jumped clear out of his seat. He turned to see a lizard with a long serpentine neck and long tail perched on a rock nearby, looking at him curiously. It was about the size of a chicken, with huge leathery wings. "Oh, hello," the human said. "You're a stone drake, aren't you?" It blinked at him. There was nothing sinister about stone drakes, so Stavan went back to his sandwich. _Or maybe that Lee wasn't Lee Rathbone, _he thought. The lizard hop-fluttered closer, its beady eyes on the food, and then on Stavan when he turned to look at it.

"You want some?" The officer took a scrap of meat and held it out to the stone drake. Its head moved back warily. "It's roast nerf." It looked from him to the food, wariness warring with hunger. Finally its little head shot forward and it snatched the meat. It ate like a goose, swallowing the scrap whole with small sharp movements. Then it looked at him expectantly. He gave it a second piece, then finished his lunch. He thought briefly about calling Diehl, fingering the Chokecherry, but decided to wait until his usual time, and stuffed it in his bag as he got up. The stone drake followed him when he started away, but kept always at a safe distance.

_I probably shouldn't have fed it, _Stavan thought a couple of hours later, after he had found a rough way up onto the ridge. The stone drake had accompanied him every step of the way. After he had finished heaving himself up onto the ridge, he noticed a cave mouth. It was about two metres wide, and not much taller than him. He unshouldered his backpack and set it on the smaller of two boulders, then stretched as he went to investigate the cave. He thought briefly of basilisks, but decided that this was too small a hole to worry about. A breeze blew his hair as he looked in. Nothing but darkness.

_I'll climb a little further, _he thought. The view from the Stanes was magnificent, and when night fell he might even be able to see the lights of Johanneston from where he was. When he had gotten his first look at the forest from above, he had been amazed to see that his days of hiking had only been through the thinnest stretch of wood in all the grand forest.

A rustling sound caught his attention, and he turned. The stone drake had lit on his pack and was now busy tearing at it. "_Hey!_" he barked. It looked up guiltily, in the process of simultaneously picking up his Chokecherry in its mouth and putting a clawed foot on a sandwich. He took a few running steps forward to scare it, and it dropped the device with a squawk and took flight. The Chokecherry hit the rock and clattered down between the boulders.

"I _really _shouldn't have fed you," Stavan said, going to retrieve it. He leaned over and saw it lying on its side near the base of the boulders, propped up between them. He reached down, but his fingers fell short of the mark. Frowning, pressing his chest against the rock, he leaned in and stretched for it, but his fingers missed the metal and plastic by nearly three centimetres. He massaged the muscle behind his elbow, then reached again. This time the tips of his fingers brushed it, but nothing else.

He tried to wedge himself between the rocks. By this time the stone drake had lit on the taller boulder and was watching him. "Rotten lizard," Stavan grunted, trying to get his arm and shoulder down between the rocks. To his dismay he found that he was too big to fit.

The phone rang.

_Bloody hell, not now. _He reached, he strained, he groaned, he pushed at the rocks. The Chokecherry remained just out of reach. Finally it fell silent. Stavan watched it, panting lightly. After a few minutes it made a noise-Diehl had probably just sent him a message-and then was quiet again. _Probably 'Where are you?' or something, _he thought.

He made another effort at reaching down, failed, tried to move the rock and failed, and finally reached into his bag for a knife to lever the thing out with, and found that the crack was too narrow to fit both the knife and his hand at the same time.

It occurred to him that Major Diehl was going to start wondering what had happened to him, and with Diehl's suspicious frame of mind he was probably going to conclude something bad.

Best that he return to Leto immediately, then. With one last reproachful look at the stone drake, Stavan shouldered his bag and set back down the mountain trail.

* * *

He hurried as best he could in the direction of Johanneston, and by the morning of his seventh day hiking he could hear the sound of flowing water. He kept to the trail, and as he passed by a small clearing he caught a whiff of blood that took him by surprise. It had a thick, dark smell, as if it were a few hours old, and he wrinkled his nose. _Ugh. Something must have died nearby, _he thought, walking quickly to leave the smell behind.

He emerged at the side of the river. Not noticing the indentations in the soft mud of the riverbank, he began to cross, taking long steps from stone to stone. The water splashed up against the rocks, flicking icy-cold spray onto his hands and his jeans.

When he was halfway across Stavan got a very strange feeling, and he glanced up.

And went cold all over.

There was a wolf drinking from the river, a huge white wolf. It was enormous, so large that it seemed impossible; it must have been two metres at the shoulder. It looked so big, but it was twenty or more metres away, surely it looked yet smaller than it was-

_Impossible, _thought Stavan. _Imposs-_

He had been in the midst of stepping when he had seen the wolf, and now his foot came down badly on the rock, and slid, and he abruptly took a step into the water, up to his mid-thigh. The sudden chill came as a shock and he gasped. The wolf looked up. Saw him.

"Oh no," Stavan heard himself say. "Oh..._no..._"

Feeling faint, he took an involuntary step back. A stone caught his heel and he fell backward. There was a rushing sound, and a sensation of immersion and of bone-deep cold, and then something sharp and hard connected with his head and then there was nothing but blackness.

...

For a moment he roused, and the world was dark-lit as if he were seeing it through a veil. Something smelled of carrion; there was warm breath on his neck. He groaned. He was being dragged; he felt the rasp of stones under his heels, saw dimly the swirls in the water as he was pulled through it. And there was blood in the water as well.

_I'm going to die, _Stavan thought, and the darkness fell again.

* * *

The time had come to go to Mustafar and to Mernall, and Canaida Base was a flurry of activity. Kaven was calling out orders to his troops, while Captain Rathbone was preparing for his own departure. The _Chiron _was now in orbit over the snowy planet, and troop transports were moving from planet to space and back again.

Kid was caught in the middle of the activity, turning this way and that as he tried to address first one Stormtrooper and then another as they jogged by. Finally he caught hold of Clatter as the soldier came clanking past him, and they spun around in a half-circle from the momentum.

"Can't I come?" the trooper trainee asked. Clatter just shook his head. "I could help you in the field. I really could. Davison says I'm doing really great on my blaster training."

"You're not going into the field until you hit eighteen," the Stormtrooper told him.

"But that's four _years _away!"

"Kids don't belong on the battlefield."

Kid's helmet hid his look of outrage. "I'm _not _a kid!" he protested. "I'll be fifteen in five months! Lieutenant _Verdan _became a trooper at fifteen!" Or was it sixteen? Either way, fifteen was better for the point the trooper-in-training was trying to make.

Clatter shook his head. "Captain Rathbone only allowed you to train at your age because you impersonated one of us and snuck onto a transport; he won't let you anywhere near a battle, Kid, and you know it." He tugged at his arm. "Now, let go. We're assembling."

But the teenager was not ready to give up. "Captain Rathbone was fighting early," he pointed out.

The trooper pulled free. "Yeah. That's probably why he doesn't want _you _doing it."

"I'd be a big help if you took me to Mustafar with you!" Kid called after him, as Clatter jogged over to join his squad. Then a gloved hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned around.

It was the imperial Jedi, tall in his black robes, the curved handle of his lightsaber hanging near the red sash around his waist. Behind Erril Kaven, Kid could see Jan Kaven as well, watching the battle preparations with the half-brooding look he always seemed to wear. Captain Demarco stood beside the younger knight with his arms folded.

"Kid, look at me." Kid looked up. The Jedi looked tired, and the sharp line of his cheekbones was sharper than usual. There was no sparkle in his eye as he looked directly at the teenager. "Mustafar is not where you want to be," Kaven said. "Or Mernall. I know what you're picturing-and this is going to be the very opposite. Later you'll look back and be glad you weren't there."

Kid sighed.

Then Kaven smiled, and looked a little more like when he'd come to the New Empire. "In four years we'll still be here," he said, and patted the boy's shoulder. "So have a little patience."

Kid sighed again, as the knight went back to speak to his brother and the captain.

* * *

The wind on the cliffs ruffled his hair as he stood looking out over the green forests and the fields and the hills. He was up on the ridge again, but it seemed higher this time, and the world below looked very small.

"Am I dead?" Stavan wondered aloud. "Or just dreaming?" He lifted an arm and looked at his watch. It was running backwards. He lowered his arm again. Dreaming, he decided; in his dreams the clocks always ran backwards.

"You know the truth," a man's voice said, from behind him. Stavan turned.

The speaker was a young man of nineteen or twenty, standing beside a white wolf that was nearly as tall as he was. He wore long, threadbare robes of some woollen material that must have been fine once, and an iron coronet decorated his brow. There was a curved dagger at his belt. His hair was thick and long and grey, and the face beneath it was sharp and handsome, in an austere sort of way. "Prince Faelan?" Stavan asked, looking at the small crown. It was all angles and points instead of softly curving lines, the kind of coronet a harsh prince would wear.

The prince snorted. "You know who I am," he said, reaching up and removing the coronet. Stavan could have sworn that his hair had fallen to his shoulders a moment before, but now it fell no farther than his chin.

And now the wolf seemed bigger. "Rathbone," Stavan said.

The young man smiled. He was looking less and less medieval by the minute. Stavan tried to watch the changes; nothing changed under his direct gaze, but every time he looked at one thing, something else seemed to alter. The robe had gotten very baggy, with huge sleeves and hood, and he could swear that the dagger was not a dagger at all. "Well?" Rathbone asked. "What happened? What is my story?"

Stavan shook his head. "It's impossible," he said.

"Fool. Put it together."

The officer looked at him. The young man was stroking the fur of the wolf. Stavan shook his head again. "You think it's all coincidence, I suppose," said the captain-to-be, "that you keep finding things...clues...evidence...that you _think _aren't connected, but _know _that they are?"

"I don't have that kind of luck." Stavan turned away and, seeing a spot of red on the cliffside, knelt. It was a rose that had somehow sprouted from a stone, and he plucked it. "I'm not any closer to knowing who you are," he said, turning back to face the captain, "than I w-"

But it was no longer the captain who was standing there. Instead it was _her, _tall and blue-eyed, frozen at seventeen, the age at which he had left her, the last age she had ever been in his memories. Stavan went to her, and kissed her lips, and gave her the rose. "You shouldn't have," she said.

"I shouldn't have _left_," he told her. He kissed her white hair.

She held up the flower between them. "Here," she said. "You're the only one to do this."

Stavan understood. He took the rose from her, and the flower fell to pieces in his hand. A sense of the forbidden came over him, and he sighed. She smiled as if reminding him of a great secret. "I wish it could last," he murmured.

"Nothing lasts forever."

"Some things last," he told her, putting his hand on hers. "Why can't we have something-even just one thing-that would last as long as we wanted it to?"

She smiled sadly. "Life...is not like that, sweetling. We both found that out firsthand."

Stavan closed his eyes. "I'm always giving something up," he said bitterly, as her hand slipped out of his, as she stepped away from him.

"Of course you are," said a man's voice, and Stavan opened his eyes again to find Major Septimus Diehl standing in place of the Arkanian offshoot, his arms folded across his chest and his expression hard. Stavan took an involuntary step back. "What, no fond greeting?" Diehl demanded. "No smile? Of course not, not for _me. _Just for your memories. You're just as frozen as she is..._ice prince._"

They had used that nickname sometimes in the academy. Stavan glared at him. "I'm not frozen."

Diehl snorted. "Look down and tell me again."

Stavan looked. Spreading outward from beneath his boots were lines of frost. The whole cliffside was freezing, bit by bit, and snow had begun to fall. He glanced around himself in wonder at all the snow, and when flakes fell onto his hand he looked at them. They did not melt. He looked back at Diehl. The snowflakes were melting as fast as they touched him, and when Stavan moved closer he found that he could feel the heat coming off of the man. It annoyed him. "Why are you hot?" he demanded. "Why you and not me?"

"I'm more alive than you are," said Diehl. He stared at Stavan, and then added, "You're bleeding."

The younger man put a hand to his head, and it came away red. Three drops fell from his fingers into the snow; where they fell, roses bloomed. Red on white. Stavan regarded them with distaste; their colour was too dark, too bloody. He raised his eyes to Diehl, and found the ISB officer gazing down at the roses, a strange and almost forlorn look on his face. But that expression faded as he looked at Stavan again.

"Who is Captain Rathbone, really?" he asked. "Have you put it together?"

"I don't know," Stavan said.

Diehl sighed. "That's too bad," he replied. He reached out and put a hand on Stavan's chest.

And shoved him off the cliff.

Stavan let out a surprised scream. For a moment he seemed suspended in midair, and then he was falling. The icy-cold wind tore at his hair and clothing, buffeted him, filled his ears with its roar. Then he saw that the rocks and fields below had turned to a frozen sea. _Wake up! _he thought. _Wake up! _He would smash on the ice, or through it. The sea grew closer with each passing second. _I must wake up! _he thought.

But he didn't.

He shut his eyes and flinched as he hit the ice. It was surprisingly thin, and he passed through it with a great _crack _that was as loud as thunder, and the unbelievable cold of the water hit him just as hard.

His body did a slow spiral in the water, and he opened his eyes to find himself floating in a black void. After a moment or two he realized which way was up and began kicking toward a pale expanse, wondering at how sluggish his limbs seemed to move.

After a few seconds his hands pressed up against ice, and he pushed at it vainly. Then he pounded on it with a numb fist, harder as panic grew along with the tightness in his chest. The ice seemed so thin that he should have been able to break it, but for all his efforts it might as well have been a wall of stone.

Something suddenly changed in the ice, and Stavan watched, chest hitching, as words appeared out of hairline cracks, thin stripes of light as if someone were scratching them in with a fingernail:

_stop fighting_

_just accept it_

Stavan stared at them. _This is not a dream, _he thought. His chest felt as if it were in a vice. A storm of bubbles erupted from his mouth. There was a groan, and a _crack_, and the scratched words shattered along with the ice, which exploded upward as if something had hit it very hard from below. He surged upward, gasping.

He jerked and grabbed out, and his arms wrapped around a warm something that jumped as he seized it. He felt cloth under his stiff fingers, and a heartbeat, and the neck and chest and back of a person. A hard, masculine body; on his neck Stavan could smell aftershave. When he opened his eyes he saw trees overhead, and deep blue sky.

The man didn't say anything, and Stavan clung to him for a few minutes more, stealing his warmth and looking about for the wolf, letting his own heartbeat slow. A flash of white caught his eye and he drew in a breath, but then he saw that it was only a Stormtrooper.

...A Stormtrooper?

A horrible realization came to him, and he looked aside at the man that he was hugging. Their cheeks were nearly touching, and Stavan saw a hazel eye very close to his, with an arched dark brow above it.

Slowly he let go of Major Diehl and lay back in the grass, looking up at him.

Diehl's expression was hard to read. "You hit your head," he said at last.

"I-I slipped. In the stream."

He glanced around himself, awkwardly, and found that he was lying on a grassy holm in the middle of the river, beneath the shade of a tree, his feet and legs still in the water. He was freezing. His hand rose to his head, and he felt dried blood in his hair. When his fingers brushed the spot, he winced. "There was a wolf," he said. "It was huge, taller than me..."

"A giant wolf," said Diehl. Then his eyes moved past Stavan. "Come on," he said, sounding distracted. He got up with some haste, and gave the commander a hand up as well. Stavan got to his feet, and nearly fell again when a wave of dizziness washed over him. He grabbed Diehl's arm to steady himself.

"You're freezing," the ISB officer said.

"Frozen," Stavan replied, softly.

Diehl turned his face away. "_HM-3012!_" he called. "_There's a heater in the landspeeder; get it out and turn it on!_" Stavan winced at the noise. A _yes, sir _came floating back in reply, and one of the two troopers jogged toward a landspeeder that was hovering some hundred metres downstream, by the riverbank.

Holding onto Diehl's arm all the while, for his head hurt horribly and he seemed possessed of a pair of feet that felt more like enormous clubs, Stavan walked with the major to the speeder. Diehl opened the door and sat him inside, by a small heater that felt delightful to be near. "I'd planned to take you back to Leto tonight," he said, reaching for a first-aid kit that was in a side compartment of the vehicle, "but it might be better to stay in Johanneston instead."

"Where are my glasses?" Stavan asked, talking to himself, and found them dangling on the collar of his shirt by one arm. He put them on, and the image of Diehl pouring alcohol onto a cloth became sharper. He winced as the major's hand shot toward him-Diehl was always so rough, it was going to hurt like hell-and then relaxed when Diehl began to wipe the blood from his temple with surprising gentleness.

"What's wrong?" Stavan asked, after a long silence. The major was acting strangely.

Diehl looked at him incredulously. "You get found in a river with blood all over your face and you ask _me _what's wrong?" he asked. "You must have hit your head harder than you thought. Look at me." Stavan looked. Diehl nodded and reached for a bandage. "How long were you out?"

"What time is it now?"

"Close to noon, I think."

"Not more than two hours, then...maybe one. Or half an hour. Or a few minutes."

"Your toes still attached?"

Stavan wriggled them. They were damp and ached with cold, but he could feel them well. "Yes."

"Probably a half hour or less, then," Diehl remarked. He seemed distracted by something. Once his fingers brushed Stavan's bump as he bandaged him, and the commander winced. After he had tied the bandage, Diehl threw a cream tunic at him. "You're soaked. Put that on," he said brusquely. "I haven't got any extra pants."

Stavan exchanged his coat and shirt for the tunic, glad for something dry to wear. His bag was probably soaked all the way through by now, if not run aground somewhere or on the river bottom. It probably looked odd to be wearing an ISB tunic and blue jeans and hiking boots together, but it was warm and that was what mattered. He snuggled into the front seat of the speeder with the heater. Diehl called to the troopers, then turned back to Stavan. "So you met a wolf," he said. "What does a wolf two metres tall eat?"

The commander thought. "Deer?" he guessed. "Bears?"

"Anything it wants. We're going back to Johanneston."

* * *

The speeder flew through the forest. "How did you know where I was?" Stavan asked, after a while.

"Lucky guess," Diehl replied. _Or the tracking device I put on your bag, _he added, in the privacy of his mind. But Stavan didn't need to know that. The ISB officer swerved to avoid a tree, wishing they could move at something above a snail's pace.

He glanced at Stavan out of the corner of his eye. _He's not acting concussed. _After the initial dizziness there had been no signs that the man had been hit on the head, apart from the laceration by his ear. He was sitting up straight in his seat, alert and fully awake. He was speaking normally and moving normally, but if he had been hit hard enough to lose consciousness, he wouldn't be.

"Why didn't you answer my call?" Diehl asked.

"The Chokecherry fell into a crevice," Stavan replied. "I couldn't get it out."

"Didn't think you were that clumsy."

Stavan sounded indignant. "I'm not. A stone drake knocked it down there."

"Tell me how it managed to get it in the first place." Diehl listened to the explanation with some amusement. "That's what you get for feeding wild animals. Were you feeding the wolves, too?"

Nothing but silence from Stavan. Diehl glanced at him again, and saw that he had gone back to watching the trees go by, or else watching something in his own mind, with a frown. _He thinks I don't believe him. _Well, that had been true up until the point when the ISB officer had seen the gigantic paw print in the grass by Stavan's head, back on the little island. At that point the giant wolves had stopped being myth.

When Stavan had failed to respond to his messages Diehl's initial thoughts were that he had been betrayed. He had been prompt in going to Mobius to capture the man before he ran off, and after they had gotten out to the river he had been alarmed to find Stavan's bag run aground on the riverbank, caught on rocks and stained with blood. Alarm had turned to fury, and he had ordered a search of the area. When he had found Stavan lying there on that little island with the tree towering over him like a gravestone, he had felt a moment of remorse at having his first thoughts be of betrayal.

Stavan suddenly spoke up. "Diehl, what's a 'padawan'?"

Diehl thought. "A Jedi's apprentice," he said, eventually.

"Is there a list of all the Jedi and their padawans in imperial records?"

"Yeah. The Jedi, the padawans...the younglings that had been taken in by the Jedi. All of them are on record. Why?"

"And none of that would be tampered with?"

That was always a problem. "Not the ISB's files," Diehl told him. "I might let you have a look if you asked nicely."

The commander smiled.

* * *

They went back to the hotel in which Stavan had passed his first night on Mobius. The Stormtroopers took one room, and the officers the other. There was a computer in the room, and after Stavan had finished showering and changing he checked the Jedi records, while Diehl hovered at his elbow. Master Freia and Master Nafein he found; both human Jedi Knights that had been assigned to lead the Clone Troopers in the battles on Mobius, they had been killed by their troops when Order 66 had been issued. There was no record of a padawan for either of them.

"There was an apprentice," Stavan insisted, looking over the files. "I _know _there was."

He stared at the records for a long moment, then typed: _Lee Rathbone._ Diehl frowned at him, then looked back to the screen.

It searched. Finally the results came: there had been no Jedi, padawan, or youngling by that name.

Diehl relaxed. "Good, he's not a Jedi."

"The last thing we need is a Force-using faction leader," Stavan murmured. "But Freia and Nafein, or at least _one _of them, had an apprentice. I think Lee Rathbone was with them during the Clone Wars. They, he...and a padawan that there's no record of."

"What makes you so sure?" the ISB officer asked.

Stavan looked at him, wondering whether to tell him about the message he had picked up or not. "When you got that message from me," he began, "did it _really _say 'I just killed one of my clones'?"

"Yeah." Diehl gave him an odd look. "It didn't seem like you to play a joke like that."

"It really _wasn't _me. Ah...you said there was a rumour that the Chokecherry started crackling when ghosts were near..."

Diehl's lips thinned. "For the love of-" He stopped himself, then took a breath and said, "All right. Tell me."

"I sent the message when it was crackling, complaining about the noise it made. And then I got a recorded message that sounded like it was from the Clone Wars. Some clones, er, going after the Jedi." Stavan looked at him entreatingly. "I'm not crazy."

"Just concussed."

The commander got to his feet. "I'm _not,_" he growled. "All _this _is-" he pointed to his temple, "-is a scratch. All it did was _bleed. _I fainted, fell into the water, and hit the sharp edge of a rock." Diehl rose as well.

Stavan moved away from him and began to pace. The major watched him silently. "I've been getting bits and pieces of the story," the younger man began. "And I'm beginning to see what it is. After the bombing of Johanneston Rathbone joined the youth militia because he was too young to have been with the army. When the Jedi came to Mobius, he spent time with them, and the clones tried to kill _him _as well when Order 66 happened, because he defended the Jedi. After about six years, he joined the Empire. Why, I don't know. But in those six years, he was missing. He was missing because he was living in the wilds _as the wolf-boy of Mobius._"

He had expected Diehl to start laughing at that, but the ISB officer only cocked his head and stared at him, standing with his arms crossed.

"If you don't believe me, ask people," said Stavan. "Ask what the boy looked like; I bet he had grey hair, and I bet he was with a white wolf. Ask. Look at the gaps in Rathbone's timeline. Ask about the wolf-boy. Show them a picture of Rathbone and _ask _if the boy looked like a younger version of that."

Diehl unfolded his arms and came closer. On impulse Stavan backed up, until he was against the wall between the two beds, but the older man moved closer still and reached out, taking Stavan's face between his hands. His skin felt hot through the gloves. _I'm more alive than you are._

For one dizzying moment Stavan wondered if Diehl were about to kiss him. "What are you _doing?_" he demanded.

"Look at me," Diehl said. He looked at Stavan's eyes for a long moment, then let go of him and backed off. "Your pupils look fine," he told the confused commander, sitting down on the side of his bed. "You're not brain-damaged and you didn't get a concussion, but you-"

"You think I'm delusional," Stavan finished, flatly.

"I think you need some rest."

"Fine." The commander went to his own bed and began to undress. "I'll tell you the same story tomorrow," he warned, pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it aside.

"Sure you will," Diehl murmured.

* * *

Later on, after Stavan was asleep, Diehl went back to the computer. He left the Jedi records alone, but looked instead for the stories of the giant wolves on Mobius. He spent some time skimming them. The things were rumoured to be sentient, to travel alone instead of in packs...and, yes, there were stories of a boy with one of them. A white wolf.

Diehl glanced back to Stavan, wondering, then back to the screen. He searched for any pictures or recordings of the boy, but found none. All the same, the stories said that the boy had wild grey hair and wore a long robe over his clothing.

The ISB officer sat at the desk for a few minutes, pondering. Then he got up and went into the bathroom, where he took a small cotton pad that had been soaked with Stavan's blood from the rubbish bin. He wrapped it up carefully, and then left the room.

The computer in the hotel room had not been equipped for blood testing, but there was something in the shuttle that he could use.

After he was alone in the ship he used the bit of cloth to transfer the blood sample, then ran the test. After a few moments the results came back to him. Unsure of what was normal and what was not, Diehl cleaned the machine, pricked his own finger, and tested himself as well. His own midi-chlorian count was significantly lower.

_The Reborn will want him, _Diehl thought, going over the results. Stavan wasn't Force-sensitive the way a Jedi was, but he was mildly so. And mildly was all the Reborn needed. If this were discovered, they would take him in for training.

Diehl considered this for a few minutes, then wiped all the records of his night's testing.

_Nobody needs to know, _he decided.

* * *

When Stavan awoke the next morning he found Diehl already awake and sitting by the double window that led out onto the balcony. The sun was just coming up over the mountains, and the early morning light filled the room with a golden glow.

"There's a theatre near here," said the major, without turning around, as Stavan sat up and put his glasses on. "I haven't been to one for so long..." Then he turned around. He was smiling. It occurred to Stavan then that maybe Diehl wasn't quite as cruel-looking as he had initially thought-or else he had just gotten used to him by now. "I thought about your story from last night."

"It's still the same today," the commander told him. He rose from bed and checked his bandages, found them stained, and began to remove them. Afterward he gingerly touched his temple. There was no blood on his fingers this time.

Diehl came over to him. "Thought so," he said, taking a new roll of bandages from the kit they had brought with them. Stavan took a seat at the end of the bed, and the major sat down behind him. "You're sane enough, Stavan," he told him. "The wolf-boy has grey hair and his name's Rathbone."

"But that padawan," he continued, winding the bandage while the bemused Stavan sat still, "you say there was one, the records say there wasn't. But you know, I think there _was_. He knows Lee Rathbone, whoever he is, if Rathbone was with Nafein and Freia. Say that padawan managed to survive the Clone Wars and the years that followed that." Diehl sounded pleased. "Tell me what _that _means."

Stavan turned back to him, remembering the rumours of imperial knights with the New Empire before Erril Kaven ever got there. "The padawan, whoever he is, might be the one the captain reports to."

"Exactly," said Major Diehl.

* * *

Night had fallen on Infel, and the stars were out. Bal Kodar sat meditating on the roof of the base with his legs crossed and his head bowed. Presently he felt Nova coming in the Force, and heard the sound of her footsteps on the ferrocrete. He raised his head as she sat down beside him.

"How is the lieutenant?" he asked.

"He's with Natasi still, going over the files we got," she replied. With some slicing, inquiries, and minor bribery they had managed to get copies of several imperial personnel records, as well as any number of recent events in the Empire, none of which had had anything to do with the New Empire faction. Evidently the Imperial Security Bureau had been doing a lot of raiding and arresting as of late. Imperial troops had also pulled out of Misketalia, a small planet on the Outer Rim, leaving it in the hands of a politically neutral, but obscenely rich Neimoidian businessman. That was relevant to the interests of everyone who might be interested in winning him over, Colonel Bancroft had said, and it would be useful to keep an eye on that situation in the future; the New Empire was probably strapped for cash, and the Neimoidian had quite a lot of it.

"Have you ever had recurring dreams?" the Zabrak asked.

Nova thought. "No...or at least, not many. Some have picked up the next night where they had left off, and a lot of bad dreams are similar...but none I would call _recurring._" She looked at him, a bushy-haired dark shape in the night. "Why?"

"I keep dreaming that I'm on some fiery planet-Salamand, or something, fighting with a Dark Jedi."

"Is it anyone you know?"

Bal shook his head. "I can never look directly at his face. I don't know who it is."

They talked for a little while after that, about the Force and whether dreams could be prophetic or not, and whether a vision of the future would come true or not when you tried to change it. After some time Nova left for bed, and then Bal as well.

He climbed into bed, but sleep would not come easily and an hour later he was still awake, tossing and turning. As the minutes ticked by he passed from fatigue into the realm of being unable to sleep on account of being too tired, and after that, finally, his eyes shut for the last time and he slept.

And dreamed of fire.

* * *

**Author's Note: **As a word of warning, the next chapter will contain a lot of violence. Also, some of you are concerned that Kaven may not be the main character anymore; don't worry, he still is! But the POV scenes go to whoever can tell the story better at any given time, and Kaven just doesn't have the necessary knowledge to do that right now, which is why we've been seeing more of the other guys. Cheers!


	18. Chapter 17: The Rise of the Sith

**Chapter 17:**

**The Rise of the Sith**

_Mustafar. A volcanic planet on the Outer Rim. Currently under Imperial control._

The imperial stronghold rose over the fields like a dark tower, its lower walls scarred by heat. Around it rivers of molten lava snaked through the black plains, forking here and branching off there in a mockery of river valleys. The lines of the fortress seemed to waver in the rising hot air.

_Looks like Hell, _Erril Kaven thought, from where he stood gazing out the front viewport of the dropship currently heading for the building. The rivers glowed like embers against the dark rock of the plains.

The radio crackled. A voice came over the channel, requesting identification. Calmly the pilot of the transport responded, sending back the code that intelligence had gotten for them.

There was a silence, and then they were clear. One thing about being in an imperial rebellion, the knight thought, was that you could get imperial codes easily enough.

"We'll be landing in ten minutes, sir," said the pilot, addressing Kaven. "Best get ready. They'll be on us in moments."

Kaven nodded and left the cockpit. The passengers' area held the first platoons to be landed, led by Lieutenant Verdan and Lieutenant Barrie. Captain Rene Lannister stood with them, a sandy-haired man in his early thirties. Lieutenant Gammell was there as well, looking mildly nervous along with his squad. "When we land," Kaven told them, raising his voice to be heard by everyone, "I will take care of the satellites. Captain, Barrie, you two take your men down to the batteries to disable those ion cannons so we can land the rest of our troops. Gammell, get yourself to a control room and make sure they don't start shutting the systems down on us. Verdan and his men will cover you till you're clear."

"What about you, sir?" Lannister asked. "Where will you be?"

There was a brief shudder as the ship landed. "I'll be in the conference room," the knight replied.

* * *

"What about the _Sepia?_" Commander Barlow asked, leaning his elbows on the table. His cream sleeves reflected ghostlike in the black stone. "There are reports that it has been sighted again in the Outer Rim territories, near the Tel Nora Sector. It may be neo-imperial."

"What, that Star Destroyer with the tentacles?" Commander Polidori laughed lightly. "It's a pirate ship, Barlow."

Barlow rapped his knuckles on the table. "Nonetheless," he said. "I have my men on it."

The officers were sitting around an oval table carved out of polished black stone. There were six of them, all commanders of the ISB that had been put on the New Empire investigation. Behind them four tall, narrow windows overlooked the river of lava that ran past the fortress.

"I've heard rumours that the New Empire is allied with Stygian priests," Commander Shia volunteered. "Perhaps we should be looking to Tamorr."

Barlow looked at her. "That crazy cult? They'd cut the hearts out of them as soon as look at them."

"Enough rumours," Commander Marwyn growled, pounding a fist on the table. "Gods know we've heard enough of them already." He rose to his feet and began to pace. He was a slim man of thirty-five, with Mobian grey hair. His eyes were grey as well, so pale a grey that they were nearly white. "So the _Sepia _has been cruising the borders of the galaxy. Whether neo-imperial or not, it remains a stolen ship piloted by a criminal who needs to be arrested and brought to justice. The Stygian cult is not our concern—let them sacrifice to their hearts' content, they're nothing to us. The arrest on Torek failed thanks to Paine's incompetence, Admiral Makar remains on the loose, and none of our raids have turned up anything solid."

They had made many arrests this last while, and Marwyn's men were busy with their interrogations. The commander had overseen many of the former and a handful of the latter. One of the prisoners had told him over several hours, while he was still capable of speech, that Captain Rathbone was human, that he was a Chiss, that he was secretly Luke Skywalker, that the New Empire controlled thirty planets, that they controlled four planets, that they were based out of Hoth, that they were based out of Geonosis, that they were allied with the New Republic. Torture, Marwyn had thought as he had walked out of the cell with the IT-O droid floating behind him, had a way of making people say what you wanted to hear rather than what the truth was. But it still had its uses.

"Commander Marwyn, sir!" The Stormtrooper at the door suddenly spoke up. The ISB officer turned to him, lips thin. "My apologies, sir, but I just received a message. That transport ship is here. It's landing."

Marwyn drew his comlink and turned to the window. "Lieutenant Speer, go find out who our visitors are," he said. There was a tinny-sounding squiggle as the lieutenant replied. The commander put the comlink back in his pocket, then turned back to the room. "It has come to my attention," he said, "that Misketalia has come into the hands of one Ordo Scrugg, some fat tadpole businessman who has more money than he knows what to do with. No doubt the New Empire is in need of funds."

"So they might want to ally with Scrugg?" asked Barlow, who had always been a bit too slow for Marwyn's tastes.

"We should keep an eye on any Outer Rim areas that have gone or are going neutral," declared Commander Shia, who was considerably more nimble-minded. "The New Empire will need all the allies it can get."

Marwyn yawned and sat down. He reached for the metal cup in front of him and lifted it to his lips, but found it empty. He stood up again. "I will be back shortly," he said, and left. 

* * *

There came a hiss of steam as the ramp lowered. A fiery breeze fanned Kaven's dark hair and cloak as he descended. As he set foot on the ferrocrete he looked at the great satellite dish that stood above him on an adjoining building. He raised a hand and crumpled it with the Force, then repeated the process with the other dishes in sight.

The sound of footsteps made him turn. An ISB lieutenant had just come onto the roof and was walking towards him, flanked by two Stormtroopers. "Who are you?" the lieutenant demanded. "What is—"

Kaven's lightsaber ignited.

"_Jedi!_" the officer gasped, and immediately the troopers fired. The imperial knight deflected both shots, directing one at the officer. The man flung himself to the ground, and the shot whizzed over his head. The troopers shot at the approaching Kaven again, and this time he bounced both shots at them. One of them fell with a hole in his breastplate, while the other narrowly dodged aside.

The officer had just drawn his blaster when Kaven ran him through, and as he was withdrawing his blade, another shot rang out. The trooper that had been getting ready to shoot the knight in the back collapsed.

Kaven turned, extinguishing his weapon. Verdan was coming down the ramp, blaster in hand, followed by the others.

"Barrie," Lannister said, and the lieutenant and her men went with him to the roof's edge. The north battery was two storeys below, on the outcropping of a connected building. There were two ion cannons positioned there, and half a dozen figures moved around them. The two officers readied their grappling hooks, and the scout troopers unshouldered their rifles.

"Contact me as soon as those cannons are down," Kaven told them, as Gammell went through the doorway from which the ISB lieutenant had come, surrounded by his escort. The captain nodded.

Taking a moment to feel his way through the Force, the knight used his own cord and hook to go the path of least resistance. Feeling a bit of vertigo at the height, he walked himself down the side of the building, holding tightly to the cable all the while. After he had gone down two floors, he broke a window with the Force and went in. 

* * *

Commander Shia stood up. "I hear blasters," she said.

Polidori rose as well. "They're getting closer." He motioned to the Stormtrooper standing by the door. "Go see what's going on."

The trooper at the door nodded and went out into the corridor. The sound of the shots grew louder as the door slid open, then muffled again as it shut.

The noises down the corridor got closer still, louder still—and then stopped abruptly. For several long moments there was nothing but silence, and then the door opened and a man came in. It was a young man in a black cloak, holding a lightsaber in his hand. The blade of the weapon shone gold, like a trapped sunrise.

"A Jedi!" Polidori exclaimed. "A rebel!"

"No," said the young man. "An imperial knight."

The door slid shut behind him. "You were looking for the New Empire," he continued. "I came here on its behalf." He raised the lightsaber, and they all knew he had come to kill them.

Commander Polidori was the first to act, drawing his sidearm and firing at the Jedi. Kaven—it had to be _one _of the Kavens—reacted with lightning-quick reflexes, and before the others had time to draw their blasters fully, Polidori's own shot slammed into him. He crumpled. Everything dissolved into chaos.

"_No!_" Barlow shouted, as the golden blade sheared through his blaster before he could squeeze off a shot. He let out an uncertain _urk _as the knight ran him through, and as Kaven turned away he collapsed. Shia backed off as the neo-imperial clove Commander Ferral through, putting the table between herself and the Jedi. Commander Darek made a leap for the door, but Kaven put out a hand and the ISB officer halted, gasping, one hand on his throat and the other scrabbling for the door controls.

"Don't," Shia said, after Darek had collapsed and Kaven had turned to face her. He started around the table and she shuffled aside, always keeping it between them. Her blaster was in her hand, but she hadn't fired. She had seen what that lightsaber could do.

"I'm sorry," the Jedi said. "But I have my orders."

She inched around closer to the door, paused, and then ran for it. She got two steps before he caught her by the collar of her uniform. There was a burning sensation under her ribcage, and her knees buckled.

Kaven lowered her to the floor, then reached out and shut her eyes, because it seemed like the thing to do. Then he rose, and left the room. 

* * *

Stepping over the white-armoured bodies in the corridor, Commander Marwyn went back into the conference room to find five dead commanders. He stood frozen in the doorway at the discovery. "Bloody hell," he said to himself, and took a sip of coffee from the cup in his hand. Then he flung it against the wall in a dark splash and knelt next to the nearest body, which happened to be Darek's. The man's face was dark, as if he'd been strangled, but there were no marks on his neck. Marwyn looked at Shia, who lay in the corner, and then at Barlow. Both had a circular hole about four centimetres in diameter burned into their torsos. _Not a blaster. _He glanced away. Ferral was difficult to look at, as he had been hewn nearly in two, but Polidori lay on his back with a neat blaster shot in his chest, his little round glasses not even askew. _A lightsaber._

Drawing his blaster, Marwyn got to his feet. 

* * *

The last of the Stormtroopers in the com centre had just fallen when Kaven got the message from Captain Lannister that the ion cannons were all down. The knight relayed the message to Captain Ellery in the _Chiron, _who promised to send down the rest of the ships right away.

The battle for Mustafar had begun. 

* * *

Sutler caught up with Bal at the side of the Jedi's ship. "Where are you going?" he asked, for he had caught sight of the Zabrak running into the docking bay as if he were in a big hurry to get somewhere.

"Mustafar," he told him.

Sutler's eyebrows raised. "That's imperial territory."

"I know. Lieutenant, will you do me a favour?"

"What?"

"Don't tell Nova where I'm going." Sutler looked at him curiously, and Bal explained, "She'll want to come with me. And I'd hate to drag her into this."

Sutler put his hands on his hips. "Into what?" he asked. "Why would you go to Mustafar if you know it's dangerous?"

Bal leaned on the side of the ship he and Nova had pooled their money to buy. "I had a vision," he said. "Sometimes Jedi get those. And I want to see whether it's true or not." He turned back to the lieutenant. "If it's not true, I'll come back empty-handed. But if it _is _true, I'll come back with Kaven."

"You dreamed that he was on Mustafar?" The Zabrak nodded. Sutler looked hesitant.

Sutler still looked hesitant. "Promise me, Lieutenant," Bal said. "Aerin."

Finally, to his relief, Sutler nodded. "All right," he said. "I won't tell Nova where you're going. But if there's any trouble, get back here immediately."

The Jedi started up the ramp. "Bal," Sutler called. The alien paused. "Be careful."

Bal nodded, and boarded the ship. 

* * *

Quay and Morne were in their meditations when Lord Hrakis contacted them over the holoprojector. "_The New Empire is attacking Mustafar,_" the Chistori told them, his ghostly figure flickering as he spoke, "_and I am told that there is a knight there. I know it to be Erril Kaven. The two of you, go to Mustafar and collect him. Take him to Korriban, and I will meet you at the Sith Academy. Use any means necessary to convince him to go with you, but I do not want him harmed, is that clear?_"

"It is clear, my lord," Quay replied. His pale green eyes were as cool as jade. The two Reborn bowed, and the older shut the holoprojector off. They turned to each other. "He seeks an apprentice," the Dark Jedi said.

"We are worth more than that Kaven," Morne added.

"If he means to test us against the knight, we will prove it."

The Reborn left the room they had staked out as their meditation chamber and started down the corridor. Commander Stavan's aide was in the hall, and he quickly looked away as he passed them. It was no secret to them that their presence at the base unnerved Gandt.

Commander Stavan was back from his leave as well, it seemed, for Morne and Quay crossed paths with him and Major Diehl on their way out of the building. A bandage was visible beneath the line of the commander's cap. "Where are you going?" Stavan asked, as the Reborn moved by.

"We are going to Mustafar," said Morne.

"To collect someone," said Quay.

"Someone from the security bureau?"

"A new recruit," said Quay.

"A dark knight," said Morne.

Major Diehl moved a little closer to Stavan. "Come on," he said, in a low voice. "No doubt the Force is calling them."

Morne's eyes narrowed a little; he remembered well the barb that Diehl had dealt him in their last meeting. He liked the ISB officer not at all; there was always contempt in Diehl's eyes when he looked at the Reborn, and it was obvious that he had no fear of them for all that they could do. The major was below them, but he was too foolish to realize it, or to pay his respects to them.

"Is there something you want, Morne?" Diehl asked, looking evenly at the Reborn across the gulf between them.

"Not from you," the Dark Jedi answered. There was something odd here, he thought. He turned his gaze to Stavan. The commander looked as usual, with his inscrutable face and cool blue eyes, but Morne saw it in his posture: Stavan was not afraid of them. Like Diehl, he was not intimidated by them.

_You should be, _the Reborn thought.

Diehl put his hand on Stavan's arm. "We have work to do," he murmured, almost in the man's ear. Stavan nodded.

Quay nudged his partner. "Come," he said. "We must go."

"Time runs short," Morne agreed. The Reborn turned on their heels and left, and the last thing the younger of the two heard before the door slid shut was Diehl saying to Stavan, "—talk like a pair of horror movie twins—"

Silently the Dark Jedi moved toward the airfield. 

* * *

The ships had landed on Mustafar and the battle had started in earnest as the New Empire engaged the ISB in open battle for the first time. The air had been filled with the sounds of blasters and screams, and overhead TIEs from the _Chiron _warred with those posted at the installation. Everything was chaos, fire and blood and heat and metal.

The fighting had gone on for a few hours already, and the numbers of the ISB troopers had dwindled slowly. Lieutenant Gammell had managed to hole himself up in a control room with his squad guarding the doors, and the first and best thing he had done was shut off the perimeter defences. Without any droids or automatic turrets firing on them the neo-imperials had been freer to advance, and they had made a lot of headway since then.

Now the last of the knot of ISB troopers on the walkway fell, dark holes riddled in his armour, and for just a moment the battle became a little more distant.

Sweat was pouring down Major Stark's face as he spoke into his comlink. "Lieutenant Asato. Spare two of the Stormtroopers and bring them here. We will be waiting by the south entrance of the building." As he put the device away, he sighed. Lifting his helmet a little to wipe at his forehead, he turned to Verdan and said, "It's hotter than Hell out here."

Verdan nodded. Sweat glistened on his own skin. He had since removed his helmet, which had been damaged beyond use after securing the airfield, and his black hair clung in wet curls to his forehead. His white armour had been mildly scorched.

Stark turned back to the installation at large. Overhead a trio of ISB TIEs shot down a neo-imperial TIE Interceptor which plunged, trailing smoke, directly into the lava river. The TIEs flew on. "The heat's not just outside," he said quietly.

The lieutenant turned his head. "Sir?"

"I've noticed a...change around us. The battle's grown more angry than it usually is." The major wiped his forehead with his sleeve again. "Or maybe I'm dreaming."

_No, _Verdan thought. _It is angrier than normal. _There was always a certain degree of battle madness when you were in the thick of things, but it seemed greater now. When two scores of ISB troopers and a handful of officers tried to take the airfield to get away, Verdan had heard Stormtroopers who had never said anything during drills actually loose full-blown battle cries. Everyone seemed edgy, laced with adrenaline.

Or...

Verdan looked up. On a balcony above them Kaven was fighting with a trio of Stormtroopers. In the beginning the knight had fought with finesse, but now there was more of a hacking quality to his swings. As Verdan watched Kaven dispatched the troopers, turned to look at where the lieutenant and a handful of the Revenants stood with Major Stark, and leapt down, his black robe fluttering.

"Any of ours taken prisoner?" the knight asked. His face looked pale and sweaty in the light of the lava fields. His robe and tunic were ripped in places, and blood ran from a cut on his cheek. He was only twenty-five or so, but right now he looked ten years that, and haggard.

"No, sir," said Major Stark.

"Good." Kaven turned to where Asato and a squad of Stormtroopers were coming around the side of the building, two ISB troopers walking between them with their helmets off and their hands behind their heads. Asato looked calm as always, and seemed unperturbed by the heat. Kaven stepped up to them. "Ranks?" he asked.

"Corporal," one man said, but the other didn't reply. Kaven asked him again. The man only glared at him.

"Trooper," said the knight, almost pleasantly, "you can tell me your rank or I can use the Force to rip it out of you. Your choice."

"Private," the trooper muttered, blanching.

"How lucky for you." Kaven motioned toward the doors with his lightsaber; Verdan could not help but notice how the men's eyes followed it. "Lieutenant Asato. Take them to the detention area...and try to keep your men from shooting _these _ones too. I want them alive."

"Yes, sir." The lieutenant bowed shortly and left with the troopers.

Kaven scrubbed his cheek with one hand, sighing, then looked at the blood on his glove. "Stars. Is this mine or someone else's...?" He turned to Major Stark, his mouth opening—

—and then turned and deflected a shot from his left. It hit the stone wall next to an ISB lieutenant who had been sneaking up on them alongside the building, and she gasped. As everyone turned towards her, blasters pointed her way, she raised her hands. "I surrender!" she cried.

"Drop your blaster," the knight ordered. She obeyed.

"You people have made so much trouble for us," Kaven said, looking her over. "You'd have us all killed if you could, wouldn't you?"

The lieutenant's eyes were huge. "I d-didn't have anything to do with it," she stammered. "I'm just a lieutenant. I work at a desk." She was staring at the lightsaber. "You're going to—you're going to stab me, aren't you—"

"Verdan," Kaven said, and nodded to him. "Take her."

"Hands behind your head," said Verdan, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Move." He guided her into the building.

She didn't say anything for a long time, but as the Stormtrooper officer took her deeper into the building, she asked him where he was taking her. Verdan didn't answer. In distant corridors they could hear shooting, and every now and then a distant explosion made the floor hum beneath their feet.

The detention area was conspicuously quiet. And private. "I didn't have anything to do with it," the ISB lieutenant said again, sounding hoarse. She probably thought he was going to do something awful to her. "I didn't plan it. Don't..."

"Give me your comlink and your code cylinders," he said. After she had handed them over, he pushed her, not ungently, into a cell. "Don't try to escape." He locked the door, then looked at the line of cells. Three locked. There should have been five or six, but one of the officers had gotten away with a couple of Stormtroopers flanking him. The ISB attempt to take the airfield had failed, but the officer had more or less used everyone else as a diversion to get to one of the ships docked on the landing pads.

Another explosion made the floor hum. Verdan turned and left the cell block. 

* * *

From where he stood hidden behind a spire of blackened rubble, Bal Kodar peeked out at the chaos of the base. There were Stormtroopers shooting each other everywhere he looked, and the skies were alive with TIEs. The whole place stank of smoke and blood and hot metal. Amid the blasters and explosions, there were shouts:

"Bloody New Empire!"

"This will teach you to screw with us!"

_The Empire is tearing itself apart, _the Jedi thought, watching the battle taking place on a walkway some hundred-odd metres away. A group of white-coated officers and a dozen or so Stormtroopers were shooting at another group whose officers were in the greyish green of the army.

"Damn you! Damn you and your traitor captain!"

"_Where the hell are our commanders!_"

Bal ducked further into the cover of the rubble as a group of neo-imperial Stormtroopers went running by. "Hope it's going well on Mernall," one of them said.

"Captain Rathbone can take care of himself," another replied. "I'm just glad we got put under Major Stark and not Major Rose for this."

The first trooper chuckled. "I heard the captain took all the wild ones to Mernall with him."

They passed out of earshot. Bal moved further into the cover of the rubble, then took out his holoprojector. When he activated it, a tiny holographic image of Lieutenant Sutler appeared. "There are neo-imperials here," he said in a hushed voice. "They're fighting the ISB. There's fighting on Mernall, too—_Captain Rathbone is there._"

"_I have to tell Colonel Bancroft,_" Sutler replied, starting. "_This could be our chance to capture Rathbone!_"

Bal heard the sound of a lightsaber, and a chill went down his spine when he looked over to the walkway. There was a figure in black robes, cutting down Stormtroopers with a blade that glowed like sunlight entrapped.

"_What is it?_" Sutler asked.

"It's Kaven," Bal hissed. "He's here. He's...he's killing Stormtroopers." He looked again, in time to see the fallen Jedi toss a trooper into the lava with a wave of his hand. Bal could feel the dark side coming off him in waves. Kaven glanced over and up at the rubble in which the Jedi hid, and Bal quickly smothered himself in the Force. The imperial knight stared up at the rubble for a long moment, then turned and went to his officers. "Lieutenant," Bal said to Sutler, "get Nova and go to Mernall, quickly! You'll get there before Bancroft and his men. I'll get Kaven and bring him back."

Sutler nodded. "_Be careful,_" he said, then paused. "_May the Force be with you, Bal._"

"And with you, Aerin." Sutler's ghostly image winked out, and Bal put the holoprojector back into his pocket. He peeked back at the walkway. Kaven was still with his men. As the Jedi watched, one of the officers pointed to the barracks, which was accessible by a bridge leading from the main building, high above the lava river. The imperial knight nodded and went back inside, and his soldiers followed him.

"Here goes," said Bal, and started after them. 

* * *

The last of the ISB men had holed up in the barracks, and the bridge across to it was a deathtrap. A fiery breeze blew Kaven's cloak as he stepped out onto the bridge, looking at the barracks. A stray blaster shot drifted past, missing him by metres. He lifted his hand. If they wouldn't come out...

There was a crack. Concentrating on the Force, the knight pushed at the building itself. The cracking grew louder, as stone and ferrocrete began to break under the pressure. A knot of Stormtroopers came out of the building and started across the bridge at a run, shouting. With a final _crack _that was so loud it seemed to split the world, the barracks toppled completely, raining dark rock and debris into the glowing lava below.

The shouts of the troopers reached Kaven: "Jedi scum!"

Kaven raised a hand and snagged an ISB TIE Fighter that had been flying overhead with the Force, then brought it down on the bridge, on the group, as hard as he could. For a moment he became a black silhouette against the explosion, and a wave of heat washed over him, blowing his robe back. He could no longer feel any of the troopers through the Force. He turned around.

And stopped dead when he saw Bal Kodar standing there. 

* * *

Kaven wasn't nearly as handsome as he had been when he had left the two Jedi behind on Infel, Bal thought; his face had become hard and humourless, tense and drawn, and his cheekbones stood out sharper than the Jedi remembered. He had lost weight, it seemed, for his face was thinner than it had been. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked a decade older than he was.

"_What are you doing here!_"Kaven demanded, his voice nearly a shriek. "No one else was supposed to know about this!"

"Erril, what has happened to you?" the Jedi asked. This was not the same man he and Nova had met on Nar Shaddaa, not the same man that had fought the Reborn with them on Ruusan.

Kaven shook his head. His hair stood up in dark curls. "Go home, Bal. Go back to the New Republic. This is imperial territory. It's no place for a Jedi." He was silent a moment, then snarled, "Well, what are you _waiting _for? _GO!_"

"Only if you come with me."

The knight's eyes looked dark in the fiery light. "Come with you?" he echoed. "I'm an imperial officer, not some rebel scum. No, I won't go with you; my place is with the New Empire."

"It's no place for a Jedi," the Zabrak shot back. "You did want to be a Jedi, didn't you?" When Kaven didn't answer, he said, "Erril, look what the New Empire has done to you. If you continue like this, you _will _be lost to the dark side. Listen to me. Come back to Infel. Stay _away _from Captain Rathbone, he's not what you think he is—"

"No," Kaven said.

"Erril, he might be a _Sith. _He's been manipulating you—"

"_HE IS NOT A SITH!_" Kaven screamed at him, raising his lightsaber. Then he remembered himself and lowered the weapon. "He is not a Sith. He is trying to make the Empire what it should have been years ago. Everything we're doing is—is _necessary!_"

"Necessary?" Bal waved a hand at all the destruction around them. "What you're doing is killing your own side. Come back with me and leave all of this behind. Be a Jedi, like you wanted to be when we met."

At the mention of killing his own side, Kaven's face hardened. "This is an imperial civil war," he told the Jedi. "You would do better to stay out of it. But me?" There was a _vum _from the lightsaber as he waved his arm to encompass the chaos. "I'm in it up to my neck. You think I'm _enjoying _this? I _hate _it! Everything that I've done, every bloody little thing—all for the New Empire...my New Empire. My captain." Kaven laughed, humourlessly. "My cold-hearted captain. Everyone loves him, you know. It's like a great bloody joke."

Then he stopped laughing. "Get out of here," he said, coldly. "Go back to your rebels. Go back to your _academy_."

For a moment Bal wondered if Kaven were actually going mad. "I had hoped that I could convince you somehow," he said, taking the lightsaber from his hip. "I promised to bring you back, and I'm going to do that. You're not really like this, Erril—it's the dark side."

He ignited the lightsaber. The blade hissed out, shining blue. "Come back to the academy, and make things right again."

To his dismay Kaven slid into the stance of Makashi, turning his body to the side to present a narrower target. "You had better hope," said the knight, "that you've gotten faster since the last time I saw you."

_I can't talk him down, _Bal thought. _I've got to disarm him and get him back to the ship._ Raising his weapon, he came at Kaven, and their lightsabers clashed. 

* * *

"Look," said Morne, pointing to where two figures with lightsabers were fighting on the bridge to the barracks. "There's the knight!"

"And a Jedi," said Quay. There was too much fighting at the base, so they had landed on a sufficiently large plateau nearby, and had spent the last hour trekking over the hot fields and using the Force to jump the rivers. Sweat poured down both of their faces. Together they climbed up to the rubble of the barracks, and Morne sat down on a rock to watch the duel. Below them Kaven was hammering at the Jedi, who was blocking each blow but not attacking. Quay sat down as well, raking his blonde hair out of his eyes, and they waited. 

* * *

Their blades clashed again and again in flashes of blue and gold, harder and harder as Kaven's temper frayed, until finally their lightsabers locked and Bal pushed hard, sending the knight stumbling back.

Kaven had lost much of his grace by now, and he nearly fell. "You're tired," Bal said. "Please, Erril. Yield, and I'll take you back to the Jedi." The younger man raised his weapon again. "I'm not here to hurt you! _Surrender, _Erril!"

The knight swung. Their sabres clashed, and Kaven's went flying out of his hand. The pilot gasped. Before he could recall it, Bal reached out and pulled it into his own hand with the Force.

"Give it back!" Kaven cried. The Zabrak just shook his head. Kaven thrust out his hand, demandingly. "Give it back, or I'll _take _it from you!"

"Erril...stars, you're not in your right mind, are you?" Bal held onto the weapon. "Will nothing get through to you?" He took a step back. "Listen, Erril, you're in a bad way; you need to rest and get away from all this aggression. You need to think clearly, Erril."

Even through the red veil that had fallen over his thoughts, Kaven saw what the Jedi was doing. "Stop saying my name," he growled. "Stop saying it like I've become _Darth _somebody. I _know _who I am."

"I don't think _I_ do."

"Give me back my lightsaber, Bal. Then I'll let you leave Mustafar."

The Zabrak's expression was rueful. "And if I don't...?"

Kaven stared at him, and the fingers of the hand he held out curled. Bal suddenly began to choke, and when he put his hand to his neck he dropped the lightsabers. The knight let him go, and took his weapon back. He ignited it again.

Bal took a few deep breaths in the long silence that followed. "It's worse than I thought," the Jedi said at last. "The dark side's taken hold of you. You're out of your mind." He straightened, and took his lightsaber in both hands. He ignited it. "And you're coming with me whether you like it or not!" He ran at the knight.

There was an electrical sound as their weapons came together. The blades parted, clashed, parted again. The Jedi's boot came up, catching Kaven in the chest, and the knight went sprawling. He rolled to his feet like a cat and sprang back into the battle, his lightsaber moving so quickly that it seemed to leave golden streaks in its wake. Bal parried each blow in quick succession, but with difficulty. Kaven had gotten clumsier, but he was still faster than the Jedi, and when Bal's lightsaber came down in a sweeping overhead blow, the imperial knight turned it aside and struck beneath it. Bal gasped.

Kaven froze as the Jedi took a step back and fell hard. For a moment there was nothing but the sound of increasingly distant blasters, and then Kaven leapt to his side, falling into a kneel beside him, letting his lightsaber fall from his hand. "Bal?" he asked, in a small voice. "Bal? ..._Bal?_" He seized the front of the Zabrak's robes, and when the fabric lifted from the Jedi's chest, he saw the wound. "Oh."

He got up and backed away from the dead Jedi. He raised trembling hands and curled his fingers into his hair and _pulled_, making it hurt, making sure this was really happening, that he wasn't having some kind of horrible nightmare. All of the fury he had felt a few moments ago was gone, replaced by a black hole in the pit of his stomach.

"What's happening to me...?" He tasted salt. Blood? No. Tears. Kaven wasn't sure of when exactly he had begun to cry, but the tears were running down his face now in hot streaks. He swiped at one eye with the heel of his hand. _Am I going mad? ...I killed a Jedi. I killed Bal._

There came the sound of running footsteps behind him. "Sir?" Major Stark's voice asked. "...Lord Kaven?"

No one was sure of what title to use with him. The thought of being called _Lord _Kaven made him wince. "Captain," Kaven croaked. "Call me captain. Or sir. N-never lord." _I'm not a Sith._

He turned to the major, who was flanked by Verdan and the Revenants. "As you wish, sir," the officer said, nodding. He was visibly suffering in the heat. "The ground forces have all been taken care of, and we have spared five more troopers and low-ranking officers, as per your orders. Captain Ellery has confirmed that her TIEs have the field. There are only a handful of ISB ships left. The battle is won."

Kaven drew his sleeve across his face, hoping that it all looked like sweat. "Well done, gentlemen," he said, morosely. "Now we—"

"_Look out!_" Verdan exclaimed, suddenly, and they all got down as a TIE Bomber screamed overhead, trailing smoke. It collided with the bridge some forty metres away, and there was a deafening explosion. Black smoke and heat rolled over them all, and in the darkness Kaven heard Major Stark coughing. As it cleared, tiny pieces of rock rained down, pattering on the ferrocrete.

"Well, I guess that was the last of the ISB ships," Moriarty said, looking over the massive hole the TIEs had made. The first ship had done a lot of damage, and the second had turned its landing site into nothing but rubble. Chunks of rock were still falling into the lava. The scout trooper looked up. "Huh?"

Kaven turned, removing his sleeve from his mouth and nose. "What?"

"I thought I saw something red. Probably just from the volcanoes."

The imperial knight went back to where Bal lay, and pointed to him. "Revenants, take him inside. We're going to give him a Jedi funeral." _I can do that, at least. _Talos had told him that the Jedi usually cremated their own, and what better pyre was there than Mustafar? "Major, get the men together. We will be leaving Mustafar shortly and going to Mernall."

Together a few of the Stormtroopers picked up the body of the Jedi, and they followed Kaven and the officers inside. 

* * *

Taking his arm, Quay hauled Morne back up the slope away from the lava. Once they had reached the top, they lay coughing and catching their breath. Before the bomber had hit the bridge, they had been preparing to rush across and take Kaven, but they had had to abort the plan as soon as they had seen the ship come streaking down out of the skies. They had leapt off the bridge and onto the lower slopes, and from there they had almost slid into the river.

Quay pushed himself up on his elbows. His face and arms were streaked with soot and ash, and his fine red cape was now half black. "He's going to Mernall."

Morne was no cleaner. "We'll have him there. There are too many neo-imperials here. To the ship."

His partner nodded. 

* * *

Colonel Bancroft had been delighted to hear that Captain Rathbone was within reach at last, and the base on Infel had become a flurry of activity. Sutler and Nova had left it behind in a hurry, taking a small, light ship from the hangar.

Sutler was piloting. Nova sat beside him in the co-pilot's chair. In the beginning she had been asking him many questions, but for the last couple of hours she had lapsed into silence, sometimes meditating, sometimes biting her nails. She was worried about her partner; Sutler felt guilty for not telling her of his destination until Bal had sent the message, but he had promised the Zabrak, and he always kept his promises.

They came out of hyperspace. Mernall floated before them, blue and green and white. It looked like Alderaan to Sutler, who had only been there once or twice before the Death Star had destroyed it. He glanced at Nova out of the corner of his eye.

She wasn't looking at the planet. "I haven't been able to feel him in the Force," she said, softly. "Not for hours. He could be hiding himself...but..." Her hand began to rise toward her mouth again, but stopped when Sutler's hand covered it.

Hoping to reassure her, he gave her hand a little squeeze. "There are Star Destroyers here," he said, as they drew closer to the planet. There was a pair of Destroyers exchanging fire, and all around them came snaps and flashes as TIEs waged war on one another.

"I'll get us past them," the Jedi said. They changed places, and Sutler sat silently as she guided their craft away from the battle and toward the planet. The radio crackled and spat, but no intelligible messages made it through before the ship was engulfed in atmospheric heat, and they were soaring down through the clouds.

Below the clouds it was a war zone. AT-ATs lay in scorched and smoking heaps across a vast and blasted field, and lights flashed as ground troops fired at each other. An AT-ST was walking jerkily toward a group of Stormtroopers, firing, and as the rebels swept overhead one of the Stormtroopers threw a detonator that blew the walker off its feet.

"How are we going to find the captain in all this?" Sutler murmured.

"The Force will tell," said Nova, as she looked for a safe place to land. 

* * *

"They're retreating!" Major Rose announced, when he and Kaine went to make their reports to the captain. Rose's helmet was currently underneath an AT-ST somewhere in the field, and his hair stood up in crimson curls. His breastplate was gone, his tunic had been torn halfway across the shoulders, and he was missing one glove, but he had a vibrant glow. Beside him Kaine was looking slightly grubby but unharmed, though he was missing his helmet as well.

Captain Rathbone was exhausted after the hours of fighting, and he looked it. Over the last half day he had wished many times that he had kept some of the more disciplined officers for himself, though Mernall had not turned into quite the circus he had feared. "Good. Watch our flanks."

"But sir, there's nothing on our flanks but the open fields of S-S-S—" Rose broke off and pointed into the sky behind the captain, and the older man turned. There was an enormous Destroyer visible in the sky. "Super Star Destroyer!"

"Well, shit," said Major Kaine, in a conversational tone. He was too tired for much emoting. "They got reinforcements."

"That's the _Chiron_," the captain said, shielding his eyes from the sun. "What's it doing here? It's supposed to be on Mustafar."

"Perhaps your knight mopped up quicker than you expected."

"Perhaps." The day was warm and the sun was shining, but now it seemed to the captain to be a lot colder. He watched a staggering explosion farther off in the sky, watched a shuttle coming down from the _Chiron._ "The two of you, go form up your men. Get the wounded triaged. It's over."

He did not see the look Kaine gave him before he and Rose left. He watched the shuttle approach, and felt a chill prickle across his skin. 

* * *

Over the long journey from Mustafar to Mernall Kaven had had time to compose himself, and he felt almost calm as he stepped down the ramp to greet Captain Rathbone. The captain didn't look happy to see him, he noted, though the man hid it well. "Mustafar is done with," he said in greeting, "and I'm here to protect and serve you, my captain...on Demarco's orders."

The older man frowned. "On _Demarco's _orders...?"

Kaven looked around himself. Mernall was in rough shape, but it looked like the fighting was over. The _Chiron _had destroyed the ISB's Star Destroyer after they had come out of hyperspace, so the naval battle had finished as well. "We took Mustafar at minimal cost," he said, turning back to the captain. "No one was taken prisoner, and just over eighty percent of us survived the battle. Not bad. We took eight ISB prisoner...and left them on Mustafar for their fellows to collect when they come to survey the damage. They'll get the word out to the bureau that we're not to be messed with, though I doubt the ISB will listen. Is there something wrong, Captain?"

The shadow of apprehension had entered Rathbone's face. "No," he said. "I'm just glad it's over...and that you're well, as well. Ah. That you're alive and well, I mean."

Kaven felt some annoyance at that. _I'm too useful to get killed yet, is that what you mean? _he thought, and didn't answer.

"Perhaps you should put a bacta patch on that," the officer said, suddenly.

"On what?"

"On the cut on your face." Captain Rathbone drew his finger across his cheekbone.

The knight had forgotten about it. "Yeah, sure. Later." He remembered himself. "Sir."

There was an awkward silence. "Come on, then," the captain told him. "We'll be here all night getting everything put together. Come to camp. You look as though you could use some rest." He came a little closer, but still kept his distance as he started to lead Kaven to where the men were gathering.

After the heat of Mustafar, Mernall seemed very cold. Kaven tucked his cloak around himself as he followed the officer away. 

* * *

To his immense relief the captain managed to convince Kaven to get some rest, and after the knight had curled up beneath the shade of a gnarled tree he left Lieutenant Ramsey to keep an eye on him while he slept.

South of the neo-imperials' landing site was a stretch of forest that had managed to avoid being blasted into kindling, and it was into the outskirts of the wood that Captain Rathbone ran now. Once he was alone he leaned on a tree and took a few deep breaths, trying to push Kaven's darkness away. The knight was worse than he had been on Torek; now the dark aura seemed overpowering, and there had been nothing nice about the way he had looked at the captain upon disembarking from the shuttle. It had made him feel...afraid.

And then Major Stark had told him that Kaven had slain a Jedi on Mustafar. It had been one of the ones he had been with, the big Zabrak named Bal Kodar.

Captain Rathbone sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself, glad that no one could see him. _Everything is falling apart, _he thought. _I need to see the sibyl. I need her advice. Gods. He killed a Jedi. One of his Jedi friends. _He had felt bad enough about ordering Kaven to assassinate Telis Kord, even though Kord had known something that could have destroyed him, but this...

_Get a hold of yourself, _he told himself. _Here's what you'll do. You'll go back to Canaida, and then to Reliquus to see Lady Delphian. You'll give Erril a long vacation and you'll make sure he's bloody happy. _Perhaps he could take Kaven with him to see the oracle. Then, if everything was all right, he could start teaching the knight what he needed to know...

He took out his holoprojector and contacted Demarco. "Demarco, why did you think I needed Kaven's protection out here?" he demanded, once the younger captain's image formed.

"_You needed _some_...protection, if you're going to be traipsing all over the galaxy instead of keeping yourself out of danger,_" Demarco replied, crossing his arms.

This was all he needed. "Don't start," Rathbone warned. "After Mustafar, he's dark as hell. I don't think he's protection for anyone."

Demarco's annoyance melted into concern. "_What happened?_" he asked, letting his arms fall. "_Captain, are you hurt? Why are you on your knees? Did he...do something?_"

"No, I'm...quite all right." The captain got up. "I'm just a bit tired. It's been a long day." He sighed. "I'm looking forward to returning to Canaida. I think I might, ah, take some time off, if I can."

"_You need it,_" Demarco said. 

* * *

"There he is!" Sutler said, looking through the electrobinoculars at the imperial 'encampment.' He passed them to Nova. "The captain's over there...by the AT-ST with the scorch mark."

She lifted the field glasses to her eyes and looked at the captain for the first time in real life. The pictures that intelligence had managed to gather of Captain Rathbone had been dated, but apparently he hadn't changed much over ten years. He was tall and lean, with thick grey hair and a serious, dour face. It was a handsome enough face, in an austere kind of way, but a handsome face could hide a lot of evil.

As she watched him he turned, frowning, mouthing something to the officer he was speaking to, and pointed to where she and Sutler were crouching on a hill overlooking the neo-imperials' landing site. She straightened, feeling a warning in the Force. "They saw us," she said, thrusting the binoculars back into Sutler's hands. She had hidden herself in the Force in case the imperials had any knights with them, but she could do nothing for the lieutenant. "Run with me. We'll lose them in the woods." She took his wrist, and together they ran for it. 

* * *

The Reborn were standing deep in the woods, discussing between themselves.

"Well, how will we get him here?" Morne was asking. He had cleaned himself up on the way to Mernall, and the cowl of his red cloak covered his head. "We'll be killed if we go there for him."

Quay's eyes were narrowed in thought. "Let him feel us," he said. "Just for a moment. And then again." They did so, and then they waited.

"Someone's coming," Morne said, looking over his shoulder. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel a person in the woods not much more than two kilometres away. Turning, he and Quay moved toward the source of the feeling. 

* * *

Kaven awoke from troubled dreams to a strange feeling in the Force. He opened his eyes and saw Lieutenant Ramsey sitting nearby, with a bandage around his arm and a look of boredom on his freckled face. The odd feeling came again and he got up, looking around. Ramsey glanced up at him. "I'll be back later," he told the lieutenant.

All around him New Empire personnel were gathering up the machinery they had used during the battle, and transports were moving back and forth between the planet and the Star Destroyers.

He wandered away from the landing site and moved south, into the woods. He walked with his cloak wrapped tightly around himself, and for what seemed like hours there was not a living soul to be seen. The underbrush was very sparse and he could walk wherever he liked, but there were no small animals in sight and no birds in the tall, thin trees. It was like a phantom forest.

Then he felt something, and heard a lightsaber ignite, and when he turned he saw that he was no longer alone. 

* * *

They had been wandering in the forest for more than an hour before Nova suddenly grabbed Sutler's arm. "It's him!" she hissed. "It's Kaven!"

Sutler looked. It was Kaven, pale and wrapped in a black cloak, looking around himself as he walked through the woods. He hadn't noticed them yet. "But if he's here and Bal's not..." the Jedi began, then froze.

The lieutenant tried to grab her arm as she suddenly pushed away from him. "Nova, don't!" he hissed, but his whisper was lost in the sound of her lightsaber igniting. Kaven whirled.

"_ERRIL!_" she shouted, and they both ran toward him, Nova angry and Sutler apprehensive.

Kaven was looking the worse for wear since they had seen him last; he had a nervous, haggard look, and it also seemed like he hadn't slept for days. "What are _you _doing here?" the knight asked. Then his face darkened. "You're here to capture me, too, aren't you?"

"What did you do to Bal?" Nova demanded.

"So you knew he followed me to Mustafar. Did you send him?"

Sutler realized what had happened. "You killed him."

Remorse passed over Kaven's face at that. "You must understand," he said, urgently, "I did not mean to." Then he took a breath. "But, I did...yes."

Nova's hazel eyes had narrowed to slits. "You are coming back to the academy with us, Kaven." Her voice shook with suppressed emotion. "_Right now._"

"Or what, you'll run me through?" Kaven shot back.

"Don't tempt me."

A sardonic smile touched the corners of Kaven's mouth. "Now, is that very Jedi-like, Nova? Watch yourself, or you'll end up like me." She didn't move. The smile faded, and he reached for his lightsaber. "Nova, Sutler. I'm going to give you the chance to get out of here," he said, "but if you're going to be as stubborn as Bal, it's going to come to blows." He extended his arm to one side, as if he were pointing the way, and the golden blade of his lightsaber rushed out. "Go. That way's safe for you, I think." There was a long silence. "If you go now, I'll forget that you were ever here." Another pause. Kaven's face twisted. "_Please, just GO!_"

It sounded as if he were begging them instead of commanding them. Sutler reached for Nova's arm. "Nova," he said, quietly. "Maybe we should—"

She pulled free of his hand. "He killed my partner," she reminded him curtly, then turned back to Kaven. "We're _not _leaving. Put down your lightsaber and come with us."

Kaven shook his head. "I'm not leaving my captain. And _you're _not getting him, either; don't try to tell me you're not here to capture him. You couldn't have known that _I_ was going to be here." He looked at them, biting his lip. "Really, you should go. It's too dangerous to be here for you, there's imperials all over the place, and..." He looked at Sutler. "...you wouldn't want to be captured."

Kaven knew about the scars on his back, even if Nova didn't. "The _both _of you put down your lightsabers," Sutler said. "We can't talk like this."

"I suspect you're not here to talk at all," Kaven replied, turning his body to the side and holding his lightsaber out slightly. Nova lifted her own lightsaber, and before Sutler could do anything, she leapt at the imperial knight.

"_NO!_" Sutler shouted, as the glowing blades collided in flashes of green and gold. Out of instinct he drew his blaster, but it sat uselessly in his hand as he watched them fight. It was something to see—and it was almost too quick to follow. Both Kaven and Nova were as agile as snakes, and the strikes came lightning-quick. Kaven ducked behind a tree as Nova swung, and the emerald green of her blade clove right through the trunk. She thrust the teetering tree aside and went after the knight again. With each flash Sutler winced, fearing that any moment the woman would be sliced through and killed, but Nova stayed alive. The duel between her and Kaven took them further into the woods, though, and Sutler ran after them. He caught a flash of red in the trees as he went, and saw a couple of men in long crimson cloaks approaching.

He forgot all about the strangers a second later as Nova cried out, and as something landed in the grass near his feet. Sutler's heart lurched, but when he looked down he saw that it was just her lightsaber. She had both of her hands still, and was backing away from Kaven. Holstering his blaster, Sutler stooped and snatched up the lightsaber handle, cocking his arm back to throw it to her, but Kaven did something with the Force and Nova went flying backwards as if shot from a catapult. She hit a tree and fell into a heap at the base of it. Sutler froze.

Kaven turned to the lieutenant, and their eyes locked. "Give me that lightsaber," he said, walking toward him.

"Oh, I'll give it to you, all right," Sutler replied, and ignited it.

The pilot laughed. "You're going to fight me with that?" he asked, as he and Sutler circled each other. "How long do you think you're going to last?"

Sutler swung the lightsaber, and Kaven blocked it. He swung again; this time the blades locked, and with a flick of his wrist Kaven sent Nova's spinning out of Sutler's hands. A second later Sutler found himself with his back to a tree, the golden point of Kaven's lightsaber at his throat. "Well?" he asked, when Kaven made no move to kill him. He glared down the blade at the knight. "If you're going to do it, then do it."

Kaven's green eyes were thoughtful, but he didn't reply. Sutler straightened a little, and the point of the lightsaber followed him, always hovering not five centimetres in front of his throat. The lieutenant could smell the hot, ozone scent of it. "All I ask," said Sutler, "is that you do me first." That way he wouldn't have to watch him kill _her._

"Are you afraid?" the pilot asked.

_Of course I am. _Carefully, Sutler nodded.

"But you're not going to beg for your life?"

"Would it do any good? Would it spare her?"

"No."

"I won't give you the satisfaction, Kaven." He meant that, and even though he _was _afraid, he looked the knight in the eye as he spoke.

Kaven smiled. "You're a brave man, Lieutenant," he said, and hit him with the Force. 

* * *

"You should have killed him," a voice behind him said, as Lieutenant Sutler crumpled. "And the Jedi, too."

"I don't recall asking the peanut gallery," Kaven said, turning around. There were a couple of Dark Jedi standing there, dressed in form-fitting black with hooded red cloaks thrown about their shoulders. One was tall and fair, the other small and dark, and both had the flat eyes of the Reborn. "Dark Jedi, are you? I suppose you're here to kill me, too." Kaven raised his lightsaber.

"We are not here to kill you," the shorter, dark one said.

"We are here to take you to where Lord Hrakis is waiting, on Korriban."

Kaven was shocked despite himself. "_Hrakis?_" Then he nodded. "So it's a truce for now, is it?" They nodded. "Fine, I'll come along with you." _And I'll kill Hrakis while I'm there._

The blonde Reborn lifted his chin haughtily, as if he had guessed what Kaven was thinking. "You may not find it so easy, knight."

"Probably not. Can I ask a favour of you two?" The Reborn looked at each other, then back at him, suspicious. "Don't kill my Stormtrooper. That's all I ask." Kaven stepped around them, to where the single approaching trooper had slowed to a cautious walk. Judging by the noise he was making, it was Clatter. The soldier stopped some thirty metres away. "Clatter," the knight called. "Tell the captain I've got some business to take care of on Korriban."

"Enough fooling around," the brunet Reborn growled.

"Uh...yes, sir," Clatter called back. When Kaven didn't say anything else, the Stormtrooper took a step back, and then another, and then went running at full tilt back the way he came. Clatter might have been noisy, but he was the fastest sprinter in the 777th, and within moments he was out of sight.

The Dark Jedi got on either side of Kaven, and marched him away. 

* * *

Captain Demarco was reading through Doctor Maris' reports from Daemmrung when he got the transmission. When he turned on the holoprojector, he found that it was Captain Rathbone again. "Sir?" he asked. It hadn't been two hours since the last one.

The captain was more agitated than Demarco had ever seen him before. "_Demarco!_" he cried. "_Kaven's gone to Korriban—the _Sith _homeworld! I need you to go after him—you can get there before I do. There are Dark Jedi there. Take the rifle with you._"

Demarco shot to his feet. "Korriban!" he said. "But why would he go _there?_"

"_Never mind that; he's going to get himself _killed _there if you don't hurry!_"

"I'm on it, Captain."Switching the holoprojector off, Demarco left his office at a run. He sprinted down the labyrinth of corridors toward the hangar in which the _Ghost _was docked. It was a long way, and he was out of breath by the time he reached the ship. He boarded, checked that the box with its special rifle was still there, and then prepared for takeoff. 

* * *

Korriban was close to a twelve-hour journey from Mernall, and Kaven slept most of the way. The Reborn didn't kill him in his sleep, so he supposed that Hrakis really did want him alive after all. _He's working with the Empire now, _the pilot thought, looking at the Reborn. Quay and Morne were their names, the blonde one and the dark one. _What with their being on Mernall, he's probably working with the ISB, too._

They touched down by a stone building whose entrance was flanked by statues. "Charming," Kaven commented, as they came down the ramp. The sky was a boil of thunderheads, the valley where they had landed a dry, desolate place where nothing grew. A cold wind whipped at their cloaks as the three of them walked toward what was apparently the Sith Academy. The cloth billowed and snapped like red and black banners.

_This place reeks of the dark side, _Kaven was like a physical presence weighing down on him, trying to bring him to his knees. What he had felt on Lucinia aeons ago had been nothing at all compared to this place. There was a nebulous, all-pervasive foulness here.

"Come," said Quay, and the three of them entered the academy. 

* * *

Sutler's eyes opened, and the first thing he saw in the night, by the light of something nearby, was Gareth Bancroft's long, amiable face. He started, his eyes flying wide open.

"I'm not _that _frightening, am I?" the colonel asked, sitting back on his knees. He had been kneeling at Sutler's side.

The lieutenant sat up, looking around wildly. "What's going on!" Then he winced.

"Just relax," the older man told him. "It's all right. You've been out for a while, I suspect. By the time we got here, the imperials weren't here anymore."

Sutler looked up, and saw the shine of the moon through the treetops. His gaze moved to where Natasi was carrying away a person wrapped up in a blanket. _Nova. _"What happened to her?" He scrambled to his feet, and Bancroft rose with him. "Is she...?"

"She's all right." Bancroft nodded. Lieutenant Kano stood a couple of metres away, holding a lantern in his hand. The lighting from below made his face look sinister. Beyond him people were moving about, human and alien alike. "Good thing for those bioscans, or else we wouldn't have found you two lying out here," the colonel said, guiding Sutler back to where a landspeeder hovered. "Your Nom Carver was very disappointed to not run into any imperials. Sergeant Ellis, will you do the honours?" They got in, and Sutler's sergeant hopped into the driver's seat. "But if we stay any longer, we might just find some. The ISB will come check on its base soon, I do not doubt."

Then Bancroft sighed, and for the first time Sutler saw exasperation and irritation in his face. But it was gone in the next moment, and then the colonel was genial again. "That's really too bad that we couldn't get Rathbone," the Fimbrian said, as they sped through the trees. "But alas, he's as slippery as a...as something that's very slippery."

They drove on in silence. "We ran into Kaven," Sutler said, suddenly. "He killed Bal Kodar on Mustafar."

"How terrible." They emerged from the woods into the moonlit field. "You can tell me everything on the way back to Infel, Lieutenant...but right now I think we had better concentrating on _getting _away, hmm?" 

* * *

"What is it?" Commander Stavan asked, getting to his feet when Diehl entered his office in a hurry. It was early morning on Leto, and the major's hair was still damp from the shower.

"About sixteen hours ago the New Empire attacked Mustafar," Diehl told him. That was when the Reborn had left yesterday afternoon; why hadn't they bothered to tell him? "They also attacked Mernall at the same time."

"What...?"

"There were ISB installations on both planets. My commander is dead now, along with more than a dozen others." The major had gotten the news not ten minutes ago, and it was only just beginning to sink in. _If I weren't here with Stavan, I might have been on Mustafar._ "Apparently Captain Rathbone was on Mernall. I'm taking my men there. Stavan..."

The commander was quick-minded enough to not need an explanation. "I'll be ready with a few squads inside the hour."

"Good." 

* * *

Hrakis was waiting in what looked like an enormous throne room, and he turned in a swish of black cloak when Kaven and the Reborn entered.

Where the dark aura of Korriban had seemed to kill everything else, Hrakis had thrived on it. He seemed even huger than Kaven had remembered, taller and stronger and more ferocious. His skin had taken on a cast that was more grey than green now, and when he unfolded his hands, the knight saw that his nails had grown longer. They really were like claws now.

"Lord Hrakis," Kaven said, bowing slightly.

"Now you greet me with some respect," said the Dark Jedi, stepping down from the dais to approach them. "That is good. Very good." His reptilian eyes moved to the Reborn. "Morne. Quay. Leave us. I will talk to him privately."

The Reborn bowed, lower than Kaven had. "As you wish, my lord," they said as one, and went outside. Quay gave Kaven a cold look as they passed him by.

After the door had closed, Hrakis waved a large hand to indicate the room in general. "Thousands of years ago, the Sith order trained here in the ways of the dark side. Their empire was cut short by the Jedi."

"Much like the Galactic Empire," Kaven said, looking around. The hall was fairly spartan, empty except for the throne at the far end of the hall, and a long stripe of stone darker than the rest of the floor, leading to the dais in place of an actual rug.

"Yes. There are millennia of history in these walls. Is this not a magnificent place?"

Kaven found it dank and depressing. "A bit of whitewash and a few potted plants couldn't hurt."

Hrakis' nostrils flared. "This will be the seat of a new empire."

_No, it's the seat of an old, dead one. _"There already is a new empire, Hrakis."

"It will fail. The dark side made the Empire what it was, and in all its existence your _New _Empire has not been a tenth of it. You call yourself a knight and think that you're the imperial counterpart to a Jedi, but you're no Jedi at all, are you?" The Chistori gave him a hard look. "On the contrary, you've _slain _Jedi. Telis Kord. Bal Kodar. Who next, Kaven?"

Kaven tensed. "How do you know those names?"

Hrakis smiled, showing rows of sharp teeth. "You don't think the Empire keeps records of Jedi, even so long after the Purge? Not after their return to the galaxy?" The pilot was silent. "I asked you who the next Jedi you kill will be. I can think of one name that you know very well. _Skywalker._"

Kaven didn't say anything, but his lips thinned.

"The one who destroyed the Death Star. The one who began the downfall of the Empire. The head of the Jedi. _The one who killed your brother._"

"Lucian died on the Death Star." Kaven took a deep breath. "What Skywalker did was destroy a superweapon that had already blown up an entire planet." He forced the next words out; even though they hurt, he had to show the Dark Jedi that he wasn't so easy to sway as this. "It had to be done."

Hrakis looked irritated. "I doubt you would say the same thing," he said, "if your younger brother were to perish as well." Kaven stiffened. "You remain an enemy of the Republic, as is your brother. He could die at the hands of the Jedi just like Lucian, and just as readily."

_He's just trying to push your buttons, _Kaven thought. Then: _Damn it, he's succeeding. Jan..._

"You think that I am out to destroy the New Empire," the Chistori continued. "I am not. Instead, let us join together to crush the Republic. Open yourself to the dark side and embrace the _power _that it will give you. Together we could forge a new order of imperial knights. Your brother would be safe, and the Empire as well."

"A Sith empire..."

"I could teach you the ways of the dark side, Erril." The Chistori smiled. "In time you could even become an emperor. As _my _successor, naturally."

Kaven looked at the throne across from them. "And I would be your apprentice," he said, going to it. "What would you call me, I wonder?"

Hrakis followed him, his footsteps quiet for such a large man. "You shall be called Darth...Artemisia," he said.

Kaven felt the Chistori's eyes on him as he gazed down at the bare throne. _He wants me to sit down._ He cocked his head. "No," he said.

It was just one word, but it made Hrakis stiffen. "What...?"

Kaven turned and regarded the Dark Jedi with contempt. "You really are stupid, you know that?" he asked. "You think you can just wreak so much havoc and bloodshed for everyone, and then they'll join you in your delusions because they're angry, too? Why do you think the Rebellion formed—and the New Empire, for that matter? Palpatine might have thought that he could keep an empire together under the dark side, and Tarkin might have thought that he could rule with an iron fist, but guess what? They're both dead. Because tyrants die, and that's the way of it. It was a nice speech, Hrakis, but the answer is no. You'll have to find someone else dumb enough to follow you, because I won't."

There was a _hiss _as the red blade of Hrakis' lightsaber erupted from its handle, and with a snarl the Chistori swung at him. Kaven vaulted up and over him, turning in the air, and landed at the foot of the dais with his own lightsaber in hand. He ignited it.

Hrakis' lightsaber had left a red-hot line along the back of the throne, and a moment later the entire top of it slid away, landing on the floor beside it with a great _crack. _"Temper, temper," Kaven said. "Do you really want to fight me? I'm a knight, you know, and you're quite...draconic." He slid into the stance of Makashi, his lightsaber held out and his feet together, like a fencer. "And what good is a knight, if not for slaying a dragon?"

The Chistori turned and came after him, and when their lightsabers came together, Hrakis' blow sent the pilot flying.

Kaven lifted his hips and leapt to his feet. "You've gotten stronger," he said, with a cold feeling in his stomach. "_Much _stronger." He backed away, all thoughts of mockery forgotten.

"You're a fool to not have taken my offer," Hrakis said, and hit him with the Force. Kaven flew backwards and hit the far wall. All of the breath rushed out of him, and he fell into a heap on the floor. _He's even stronger with the Force, _he thought, wincing as he struggled to his feet. _No...not stronger. Just more forceful. Well, two can play at that game. _He lifted his hands and let Hrakis have it, as hard as he could. The air between them seemed to ripple, and the Chistori was knocked backwards as if a tank had run straight into him. He bounced and skidded and hit the wall, but got up again faster than Kaven had. The knight threw another gust at him, but Hrakis raised his lightsaber before him, his eyes narrowed in concentration. His cloak billowed, but he did not fall.

"Do you think your brother knew of the Death Star's impending destruction?" Hrakis asked, his boots pounding an inexorable beat on the stone floor as he came. "Perhaps the Force was with him as well. How many nightmares do you think he had? How many dreams of his own death?" He grinned. "Perhaps he had been running for the hangar for a ship...any ship...with which to escape. But he never did make it out, did he?"

Kaven raised his lightsaber. "_Leave him out of this!_"

"You must miss him terribly. Well, _you'll be with him soon enough!_" Hrakis leapt at him, cutting savagely downward. This time Kaven managed to keep his footing, though he had to use the Force to make himself strong enough to withstand the Chistori's blows. Hrakis was stronger than anything he had ever seen.

The Dark Jedi locked sabres with him and thrust his blade aside, then backhanded him with his free hand. "I had foreseen that you would be the key to my rise as a lord of the Sith," he said, as Kaven hit the floor. "I had thought that I would then be your master." The knight rolled aside, and Hrakis' lightsaber left a glowing streak on the floor where Kaven had lain only a second before. "But it seems that your death as the first imperial Jedi is the key."

The left side of his face throbbing, Kaven got to his feet and raised his lightsaber in time to meet Hrakis'. They exchanged blows and Kaven's boot came up, catching the Dark Jedi in the stomach. Hrakis folded a little, and with a flick of his wrist Kaven disarmed him.

He swung, intending to kill the Chistori, but Hrakis caught his wrist in an iron grip and forced his arm away, and a moment later his claws raked across Kaven's front. The knight cried out in surprise and pain, and Hrakis punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, and the Chistori punched him once more before shoving him away.

Kaven stumbled and fell, gasping. "Now, who said that knights slew dragons?" Hrakis asked, holding out his hand and idly pulling his lightsaber back into it. "It seems as though it's the other way around."

The knight's abdomen was in agony. He coughed, and when he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the glove came away bloody. He began to pull himself away, leaving a red streak on the floor. Hrakis didn't move, but merely watched him with a disdainful look. Kaven used the wall to get himself onto his feet again, leaning heavily on it. The claw marks in his chest burned. "The Chistori don't...have many...Force-users, do they?" he asked, and coughed again. More blood came. "I bet you were...practically one-of-a-kind, back on your home planet." He took a breath, using the Force to try to repair some of the damage Hrakis had done. "So...how many times...did you get called a freak, Hrakis?"

Hrakis' eyes narrowed. "They were too afraid to say it."

"To your face." The pain had faded a little, and Kaven stood a little straighter now, his free hand on his stomach. "You know they'd say it when you weren't...there to teach them...a sound lesson. How long did it take...to get off-planet and go to the Jedi?"

It seemed that he had hit a nerve, for the Dark Jedi was standing stock-still. "Who said that I went to _them?_" Hrakis asked. "They're fools."

Kaven had been guessing. But he wanted to keep Hrakis distracted for a few moments more. "But the damage was done by then." His voice was getting stronger, as the sick pain lessened. "You were too angry. You made your anger your armour. You were already on the dark side." Kaven straightened, and took his hand from his stomach. "It's for the best, anyway. You're too weak to be a Jedi."

Hrakis looked as if Kaven had slapped him. "To weak to be a Jedi!"

"You heard me."

The Chistori stared at him. "By the time I'm done with you," he said, his voice shaking, "you're going to wish that I'd killed you." He started toward him, speeding up with every step. "But before I do I am going to kill your _dear _brother and your _dear _captain, and I am going to rip your fragile little heart in two by _doing it right in front of you_!" He broke into a run, and Kaven dodged aside as the red lightsaber came down, leaving a glowing streak in the wall. Hrakis immediately turned and cut at him, again and again. The knight kept out of his reach, knowing better than to engage him directly now.

"Freak," he said, and leapt out of the way of a particularly vicious swipe. "Can't you _hit _me? I thought _I _was the weak one!" Screaming a curse at him, Hrakis took his lightsaber in both hands and brought it down. Kaven jerked out of the way and the Chistori followed him, running full-tilt, swinging at him.

His ferocity was nothing short of frightening, but his accuracy was falling. "Over here, you freak!" Kaven called, dodging to his left.

"_Shut up!_" Hrakis shrieked. "_Stop saying that!_" He shot forward with more agility than Kaven had expected, and the knight barely managed to turn aside the cut that the Chistori aimed at his head. Hrakis rained blow after blow down on him, but they were vicious and uncontrolled, and the gaps in Hrakis' moves were growing wider.

Spotting an opening, Kaven hit him hard with the Force, and the Dark Jedi went sprawling. His lightsaber clattered away. The knight ran at him, his lightsaber raised for a killing stab, but before his arm could come down Hrakis suddenly sat up, grabbed his wrist, and _twisted, _and there was a wet snap. Red pain shot up Kaven's arm, and he screamed. Hrakis' right hand closed around his neck and pulled him down to the floor, and he fell in a heap of black cloth, still in the Chistori's grip.

And then Hrakis was on top of him, eyes blazing, and his fist collided first with the knight's stomach, then smashed across his face. Black stars exploded in Kaven's vision, blinding him; as if from a great distance he heard cloth tearing, and then there were streaks of pain in his chest, stabbing and slashing, faint next to how his stomach felt.

When the stars receded he caught a glimpse of Hrakis' head coming down, and then the Chistori sank his teeth into his shoulder. 

* * *

The _Ghost _docked before the Sith Academy, and Demarco walked down the ramp with the rifle in his arms. A cold wind stirred his hair and he looked around, not liking the feel of this place at all. It was a barren wasteland where nothing wholesome lived.

The blaster was heavy in his hands as he walked through the valley to the academy entrance. Lightning flashed overhead, and an ominous rumble filled the air.

The imperial officer had not gone a hundred metres before he heard a low growl, and turned around. Some large black creature was prowling along the top of the ridge, and it was looking down at him. He looked back at it, the blaster held firm in his hands. Perhaps deciding that he wasn't such easy prey, the thing turned and trotted out of sight. He relaxed.

Then a voice from behind him said, "Going somewhere, Aedin Demarco?"

He turned. There were two men in red cloaks standing before the academy entrance. They held lightsaber handles in their hands, and their eyes were flat and dead. _Reborn._

Demarco was not afraid of Dark Jedi. "I'm here for Kaven," he said. "Stand aside." They didn't move. "I said _stand aside_."

They smiled and ignited their lightsabers. Two bloody red blades hissed out.

The captain raised the rifle. "Get out of my way."

"A blaster, how terrible," said the blonde one.

"For him," the darker one added, and they started toward him.

Demarco let them have it. The rifle was a Geonosian sonic blaster that had been adapted for human hands, and it could not be blocked by a lightsaber. There was an odd rippling, keening sound as he squeezed the trigger, and the first blast took the blonde Reborn by surprise, sending him flying backwards.

The dark-haired one looked shocked. "Quay!" he exclaimed. "What the—" Demarco oriented on him and fired, and there came another of the rippling bursts. The Reborn was lifted into the air with the force of the shot, and he landed near his partner, blood running from both nostrils. Neither of them moved. They were alive, but unconscious.

Demarco shot the both of them a second time, just to be sure. Then he turned and ran into the Academy. _If it's crawling with Sith, so be it, _he thought. _I'm not leaving until I find Erril._

A scream echoed down the hall. A few seconds later, another one followed it. Demarco set off in the direction of the sounds, his boots pounding the floor. There was another scream, and a great _crack, _and the sound of something heavy hitting something else.

He threw his weight against a set of great double doors, and when they had opened he slipped into what looked like a great throne room. His eyes lit on two forms lying on the floor, one large and the other smaller. When he called out, the smaller of the forms stirred. He ran to it. "_Erril!_" he burst out, falling to his knees at the knight's side.

Kaven's tunic and robe had been torn to shreds, and the skin beneath was barely visible for the rending it had taken. What was not ripped open was bruised, and he had a black eye that was starting to swell. His face was nearly unrecognizable for all the blood and swelling. Horrified, Demarco reached out and touched his temple, very gently.

Kaven stirred a little at his touch, and his bloody lips moved. "Demarco...?" His eyes opened a little, but he did not seem to truly see the officer kneeling at his side. "I feel...broken," he said, vaguely.

"Oh, please...don't speak. We need to get you out of here." Very carefully Demarco gathered him up in his arms, setting the blaster across his lap. He carried him out of the Sith Academy and back to the ship, struggling with the weight, and managed to get him into the tiny medical bay and onto the table. Kaven was unconscious by then. Demarco leaned on the wall opposite the table as the medical droids began to examine the knight. His arms were trembling with exertion, and he thanked the Force that Kaven was not a heavily built man.

"_Right arm: hairline_ _fracture of the radius, fracture of the ulna,_" one of the droids said. "_Multiple lacerations..._" It went on listing for some time, and by the time it got to _internal bleeding, _Demarco had fled into the cockpit, unwilling to hear any more. His hands shook as he worked the controls, though not from fatigue alone.

An hour later they were in hyperspace, and he came back into the medical bay to find Kaven lying motionless while one of the droids strapped his wrists and ankles to the table. The other was doing something with a needle and tubes. Demarco looked at Kaven. He looked very pale. "He's lost a lot of blood," he said, softly. _Is he going to survive?_

One of the droids said something about a transfusion. Demarco turned to them. "I'll donate if I'm...compatible," he told them. The droid swivelled on its stand to face him, and he took off his gloves to be tested. It pricked his finger with a needle and took a few drops of blood. There were machinery sounds from inside the droid, and it told him the results.

He was compatible.

In short order he was sitting at Kaven's side with his tunic draped over the back of his chair and a tube in his arm, watching the blood being siphoned from him to the knight. To him it seemed a curious kind of intimacy, to be putting his own blood in Kaven's veins. His eyes moved past the red tube. Kaven looked lily white and barely alive under the harsh light of the table.

"Don't die on me," Demarco told him, as they flew on toward Canaida. 

* * *

The sun was just rising on Mernall, and wisps of early morning mist floated above the ground.

The battle was done, Stavan saw; AT-ATs lay blasted and smoking on the field, and the large white building that had served as a military base had been damaged. The New Empire had come, attacked, and left. Stavan looked around himself. _This wasn't a battle so much as a lesson, _he thought.

He turned to his Stormtroopers. "Go check the fields and the forest. Report anything unusual to me." There came a chorus of _yes, sir_s, and the score of soldiers he had brought trooped away.

There were clusters of flat-roofed buildings at the base of the hill on which the white building sat. There had been a town there once upon a time; it had been abandoned since then. The Empire had not built the base on the hill; it was some kind of government building, and was not of the imperial architectural style. Some of the buildings around it had been destroyed in the fighting, but most still stood.

Diehl had ordered his men to pitch some tents a decent distance from the town. "We'll be here a few days," he told Stavan, "and I'm not sleeping in some rickety pile of rocks that's liable to fall on me." At that moment there was a groaning sound, and the roof of the nearest house collapsed. The major presented a hand in the direction of the house, from which a handful of rats were fleeing. The commander smiled at him, and one corner of Diehl's mouth lifted.

"We'll have a look at the base," the major told him. "But first I want to search the town and make sure there's nothing hiding there." Bioscans had indicated the presence of life forms when they had landed.

Stavan fell in with the ISB officer and his men, who soon spread out to search a few adjacent streets. After a couple of hours he left Diehl poking through a large building with a couple of his Stormtroopers, and walked down the street. Moss and vines had grown over parts of the buildings, and grass had sprung up in clumps through cracks in the flagstone streets. _It's been abandoned for years, _he thought, stopping in the middle of one wide street. It was very quiet.

Suddenly he looked up at a noise, and saw a small group of Stormtroopers approaching, led by a white-coated officer. He glanced away to see whether any of Diehl's men were in sight, but he was on his own.

"You there," the officer called, and Stavan turned to him. He was in his mid-thirties, too young for the light grey hair on his head, and he was ordinary-looking except for eyes light as smoke. Those pale eyes moved over the commander in one gestalten flick as he closed with him: straight black hair; blue eyes; a pretty, slightly androgynous face; a commander's pips. Then the man smiled, and Stavan got a bad feeling. "Where are your men?" the ISB officer asked.

"In the field," Stavan answered, getting more nervous with each passing moment.

"How unfortunate," said the officer—a commander—and the look in his eyes was as warm as a winter night. "Captain."

"Commander," Stavan said, touching his insignia. He took a step back.

"If you try to run," the ISB commander said, "then I will have you shot. In the legs."

Stavan froze. The man thought he was with the New Empire's forces. "I'm not a neo-imperial," he said, raising his hands placatingly.

"Oh, really? So how do you know that they were _here_—" the man reached out and took hold of his collar, "—Demarco?"

"_Diehl!_" Stavan shouted. And then he doubled over as the man drove a fist into his stomach. 

* * *

The house looked abandoned. But just before he turned the corner Diehl heard the creak of a foot on floorboards, and he drew his blaster. "Who's there?" he called. There was no answer. Hearing the soft creak coming swiftly nearer, he turned the corner, blaster in hand—and slammed bodily into a Stormtrooper.

He jumped back. "_Trooper, for the love of—_" Then he saw that it wasn't one of his men; in fact it wasn't a man at all, it was a woman. He had brought no female troopers to Leto with him. His blaster came back up, pointing from the hip. "Get your helmet off!" he barked. "Identify yourself!"

The Stormtrooper reached up and took her helmet off, revealing a plain-faced woman with red hair and a nose that had been badly broken in the past. "HM-5506, of the Imperial Security Bureau," she said.

Diehl relaxed. "Who is your commander?"

"Commander Marwyn."

"What—" Diehl began, but stopped when he heard a cry from outside. "Come with me." With the trooper at his heels, he ran out of the house and into the street, following the noises.

He turned the corner to find an ISB officer holding Stavan by the front of the uniform and shaking him, shouting, "Where are they, Captain? _Where?_" Stavan's nose and lip were bleeding, and his eyes were wide.

"_What is going on here!_" Diehl demanded, stomping over to them. The officer turned, revealing a sharp face and a commander's insignia. With effort the major softened his tone. "Commander, what is this?" he asked. The man had eyes that were barely darker than milk. Diehl liked them not at all.

"Aedin Demarco," the officer said.

Stavan gave a gasp and tried to pull away. "I tried to tell him—" he began, but halted when the ISB commander raised his hand.

Diehl's own hand snaked out and caught the commander's wrist. "Sir, this is _not _Aedin Demarco," he said. "This is Commander Erich Stavan of the base on Leto. I'm _working _with him."

The older man wrenched free. "Identify yourself," he snapped.

"Major Septimus Diehl of the Imperial Security Bureau. Formerly serving under Commander Polidori, until his recent death on Mustafar."

The man ran an eye over the younger commander before letting him go, then turned back to the major. "I am Commander Marwyn. What are you doing here, Major?"

"We heard about the attack," Diehl replied. Behind the commander Stavan had realized that he wasn't going to get so much as an apology from Marwyn, and his face had hardened. "We are investigating the New Empire case."

"I will see what you've found, then."

"As you wish." Diehl's jaw clenched. Stavan had taken one glove off and was wiping the blood from his cut lip. _Apologize, _he thought. But he knew Marwyn would not. Stavan had ceased to be of interest the moment he had stopped being Aedin Demarco.

_Wherever you are, Captain, be grateful. Someone else just took a beating for you. _Stepping past Marwyn, Diehl took Stavan by the arm, none too gently, and took him aside. "I'll talk to the commander," he whispered harshly. "Go clean yourself up." Stavan looked at him in disbelief. _And stop giving me that look, you look like a puppy someone kicked. I'm getting you _away _from him, don't you see that? _He reached into his pocket and drew out a handkerchief, which he pressed on Stavan. "Go back to the camp," he told him.

Stavan's reproachful look faded. "The camp? I..."

Diehl signalled to his men, who had began to gather, drawn by the commotion. "Take the commander back to his tent," he ordered. Then he leaned closer to Stavan, and put his hand on his shoulder. "I'll be—" Stavan pulled back from him, his face suddenly cool and impersonal. "—back later," Diehl finished.

Stavan turned on his heel and left, straightening his uniform, flanked by the major's men. Diehl watched him go, silently. 

* * *

There was a lantern on in the officers' tent when Diehl returned to their encampment that evening, and when he parted the flap and stepped inside he found Stavan lying on his back in his cot, gazing up at the ceiling and fiddling with something on his left hand. A healthy purple-green bruise had cropped up over one eye, and there was a blot of red at the corner of his mouth. When he saw the ISB officer staring at him Stavan turned over on his side and lay with his back to Diehl, and put away whatever it was he had been playing with.

_Thank god his men weren't with him when Marwyn found him, _the major thought. The Stormtroopers would have defended their commanders, and then things would have gotten uglier than they had been already.

The silence stretched out. "You alright?" Diehl asked.

"Yeah. Holding up."

Stavan's tone was flat and noncommittal, his back still to the major. Diehl blew a sigh through his nose. "Stavan, roll over. I want to talk to your face, not the back of your head."

Obediently the younger man turned back to him. Diehl stared hard at him. Stavan looked slightly uncomfortable at the scrutiny, but otherwise all right, and he raised his chin defiantly as the major examined him. "You don't look like Aedin Demarco," Diehl told him, "not to me, anyway. But you sound like him."

"My voice?"

"Maybe, but I meant your description. Your hair, your eyes. Your body. Your build, I mean." Diehl sat down on his own cot. "That's probably why Marwyn thought you were him."

"Yeah." There was another long silence, and then Stavan said, "Good night, Diehl." He rolled over, still cool. Diehl shrugged out of his tunic and began to undress for bed.

That should have been the end of it, but something made Diehl speak up. "When I was a lieutenant, I was sent to a place that looked a lot like this," he said, after a few moments' thought. "It wasn't very long after I had joined the Empire. I was about nineteen or twenty."

"It was after the Battle of Yavin, and we were supposed to be dealing with a bunch of rebel sympathizers. I had thought at the time that we were going to just arrest them." He smiled ruefully. "I used to be kind of naive."

"The commander ordered them shot. You remember what I said about the executions." Stavan was silent. "I had to give orders to have these people killed. For treason. I tried to stick it out, but I just couldn't. Halfway through, I left." He remembered how his hands had been shaking. And then later, how the shadow had fallen over him; the commander, standing with his arms crossed, looking like the very image of contempt. _Does it sicken you, Lieutenant? _the man had asked. There had been no point in lying. _Yes, sir, _he had answered. _It sickens me._ "The commander was pretty angry with me. He told me that I was there to serve the Empire, not judge it." He lay back in his cot, gazing up at the ceiling. "I wish that had been the last one I had ever seen. But it wasn't. After that I just tried to think about something else...a girlfriend, usually...and lose myself."

Then he was silent. There was nothing else to say.

Stavan rolled over to face him again. "Diehl," he said quietly, "why did you tell me this?"

Diehl thought about the look Stavan had given him earlier, when he had gotten him away from the ISB officer. "I guess I didn't want you to think I'm like Marwyn," he said, finally.

Stavan rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "I don't think you are."

Diehl felt some relief at that. "Good." He reached for the lamp and switched it off, and the tent plunged into darkness. "Good night," he said.

"Good night...Septimus." 

* * *

When the _Ghost _docked in the hangar, Captain Rathbone was there waiting along with Jan Kaven, and when the ramp lowered and a hollow-eyed Demarco stepped down it, followed by a repulsorlift stretcher, the captain went cold all over. "Demarco," he said. "Is he...?"

"_Is he all right?_" Jan broke in, and in a flurry of brown cloth he ran to the stretcher. When he caught sight of his brother his mouth opened and shut, but no sound came out. He covered it with his hands.

_Oh, no,_ Rathbone thought. _No, no, no._ He went to where his knight lay.

"He had been fighting with a Dark Jedi when I found him," Demarco said, as his superior stared at the young man in mute horror. "He got a blood transfusion on the way back, but he never woke up. The medical droids said...they said...hahh..."

The captain could well imagine what they had said. "Get him into the infirmary. _Now._"

The next few hours were difficult. While the testing was being done the captain paced and fidgeted, his thoughts in a whirl, while Demarco sat and waited silently. Jan sat in a chair with his eyes on the floor in front of him, never saying a word, but when the doctor called them in he was the first to go into the room.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, after he had told them the news. "There's just too much damage." He glanced at the knight. "He's not going to make it."

A heartbeat passed, and then Jan turned and ran from the room. "Jan," Demarco called, but the young man was gone. He looked at Captain Rathbone.

"Go to him," Rathbone said. At his sides his hands had curled into fists, and they were shaking slightly. To the doctor he said, "And if he stabilizes?"

The doctor shook his head. "Perhaps until tonight," he allowed. "But not till morning."

"Captain?" Demarco asked.

The captain's grey eyes were on his knight, the first knight the New Empire had ever had. "He's not dead yet," he said. "Dying is not dead. Go. See to Jan."

"Captain—"

"_I said get out!_" Rathbone snapped, whirling on him. "I want some _time _with him—_alone! _Doctor, you too. The both of you. Leave." He took a breath. "Just leave..."

"Yes, sir," the doctor said, and brushed past Demarco. The younger captain left as well, and when he glanced over his shoulder, the last thing he saw before the door slid shut was Captain Rathbone taking a seat at the bedside, reaching out to put a hand on Kaven's.

Demarco had thought to go to Jan's room first, but when he knocked at the door no one answered. _He's not there, _he thought. _But he had to have gone someplace private. _He thought about what the most private place for the knights would be at Canaida Base, and then went to the meditation room off the training hall.

Jan was in there, curled up on one of the round seats, and he looked up when Demarco entered. His eyes were wide and frightened. "Demarco," he said. Then he looked away, hugging his knees. Then he looked back to the captain. "H-how can you be so calm?" he asked. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Demarco. It surprised him a little that Jan had known how he felt. "You felt it, then? In the Force?" The younger man nodded. "Then you must feel my grief." Calm was all he knew how to be, no matter how much it hurt.

"Yeah." Jan was rocking a little, trying to keep himself together. Demarco sat down beside him. "I feel another thing in the Force. Erril. Is fading."

The captain closed his eyes. _Why does it have to end like this? _he wondered.

There was a long silence. Jan's breath had begun to hitch. "Tomorrow I'm not going to have a brother anymore," he said. "I'm going to be...alone."

And then his control broke, and he burst into tears.

Demarco put his hand on Jan's back, feeling the force of his sobs. Then he slipped his arms around the lieutenant's shoulders. "Jan..." It was not going to be all right; he could not say that. "...you will not be alone."


	19. Chapter 18: No Exit

**Chapter 18**:

**No Exit**

Sparks rose from the pyre.

The semicircle of officers stood silently, the salt sweat like tears on their brows. Out of a sense of propriety they had removed their helmets and caps, though they cared nothing for the one burning, and the fiery breeze off the lava fields blew their hair. Greasy smoke rose in a thick black column.

_Bal, _Kaven thought, standing bundled in his robe as if he were cold, though the heat of the pyre and the lava together was overwhelming. _You should have died old, with half a hundred grandkids. _He should have, but he hadn't. _You were right, Bal; I'm out of my mind. I nearly killed Nova and Sutler as well. Whatever there is in the afterlife, I think I might be going to a different place than you._

He turned to his men, and found that they weren't his men anymore. Instead of the officers, robed and hooded figures stood there, their eyes accusing beneath their hoods. Telis Kord. Midea Locke. The Reborn from Shanast, Ioun, and the Share Installation. They stood silent before him, while Bal burned behind him.

Kaven turned back to the pyre. "Never again," he said. "Not even if ordered. Not even in self-defence." A knight ought to take vows; he would make this his.

"Say it," said Telis Kord.

"Make it your promise," said Midea Locke.

"I will never harm a Jedi again," Kaven said. "I will fight the dark side, but I will never kill anyone in anger or hate. Never again."

He watched the yellow-orange flicker of the fire. "You were ten times the Jedi I was, Bal." The sound of the flames was like wing beats, and he listened to them, gazing into the fire. Gradually the rest of the world fell away.

_You got into another fight._

Now it seemed like he could see something in the flames; a middle-aged man talking to a sullen boy of about fourteen with a bruise on his cheek. _I know what this fighting is about, _the man said. _It's lashing out. The last few months have been hard on you. You and your brother were very close, weren't you? _The boy didn't answer, and he never looked at the man. _You have moments when you tell yourself that he's still there. That you'll see him on his next leave. But you know he's not. _The teenager's shoulders had begun to shake, and he buried his face in his hands. The man leaned closer. _What you're going through is complicated grief, Erril. But—_

"—it's simple," Kaven finished, along with the therapist. "You miss your brother."

He came back to himself, and saw that the flames had died out. It was dark and the air had grown cold, and what he had thought at first was falling ash was snowflakes. He turned his face upwards, feeling their cold feather-touches on his cheeks and lips and brow.

"Years after the fact and you're still lashing out," a voice said. Kaven looked back down to see another him leaning against the stone pyre. It was him...and not him, at the same time. This one looked younger, and his clothing was brown and tan, not black and red. "Complicated grief indeed."

"Who are _you_?" Kaven asked.

The other Kaven shrugged. "Part of you," he said. "The part that keeps track of things, that watches...the part that notices a lot more than the rest. One might say I'm a lot smarter than you."

Kaven just snorted. "Why is it snowing, then, Mister Smart Guy?"

Snowflakes dusted the pale shoulders of the other's robes. "Down here? It's symbolic."

"Of what?" He looked at the cold pyre, at the darkness around them, at the falling snow like ashes. Then he tucked his robes closer around himself. "On second thought, don't tell me."

The watchman caught falling snowflakes in his palm. Closing his hand, he said, "You know, you've tied yourself in a right knot about the captain."

Kaven sighed. "I know. I've been an idiot about wanting to get his approval. If he doesn't care about me...I'll just have to accept it." He paused. "I keep telling myself that, but it's easier said than done."

In the silence the snow fell. The watchman gazed at him for a while, then said, "You remember how you always felt around Lucian? Like you were safe with him?"

"Yes. Why?"

The other Kaven brushed snowflakes out of his hair. "Oh, I've just been thinking," he said. "Captain Rathbone gives off that same vibe."

Kaven turned to him. "What?"

"Just something about him." The watchman stepped away from the pyre. "It seems to me, Erril, that you've been trying to get a brother's love out of someone who's just not that, and feeling crushed when you don't get it. And you've known him _how _long? Give the guy a break, why don't you."

The pilot ran a hand through his hair. "That's crazy," he said. "I don't honestly think—hey! Where are you going?"

The other Kaven paused on the outside of the ring of light, then pointed a finger at the ground. "Back from whence I came." And then he was gone, and Kaven was alone again.

An odd, unpleasant feeling came over the knight, and he covered his face with his hands. _Ugh. Even my eyelids hurt._

Then he opened his eyes, and a bank of bright lights above him drove into his retinas like spears, making him wince. His arm was too heavy to lift, so he had to make do with squinting. "Mm."

A face thrust itself into his view. "Oh my god," it said. "He's alive." It pulled out of his vision. "_Jan! _Jan, wake up!"

There were some noises after that, but Kaven found he couldn't move his head, nor could he follow what in the world the noises were supposed to mean. So he closed his eyes again, and let the blackness wash over him. 

* * *

"—s it a misdiagnosis?" he heard someone saying, when he sauntered vaguely back into consciousness. "Stabilized...bleeding stopped...heartbeat regular...bloody _miracle_—"

"What? _What _is keeping this man alive?"

Kaven closed his eyes, and an indeterminate time passed. He opened them again, lifting the heaviness of his lids and looking blearily at a lot of whiteness.

"He's waking up again," someone said.

A face came closer. This time Kaven recognized it as Demarco's. It looked thinner than he remembered. "Erril?" the captain asked. "Can you hear me?" Kaven tried to answer, but his tongue seemed to weigh twenty kilograms. He made an incoherent sound. Demarco turned his head. "Gammell, go get the captain." Someone said something. "No, just let Jan sleep. He's been here all night." There was the sound of a door opening and shutting.

Someone leaned over him. "Captain Kaven, can you hear me?" they asked. It sounded like a man, but not one that Kaven knew. Then he suddenly shone a light in his eye and Kaven squinted, trying to protest, but nothing coherent came out. "I'm going to run more tests," the doctor murmured. "You are one lucky young man."

Kaven didn't feel lucky. Instead he felt half-dead and tired and medicated, and he had had more than enough of being awake. He shut his eyes and drifted away. 

* * *

The caverns below the Stanes were vast and black and seemingly endless. Lee Rathbone's light shone silver in the cavern as he walked, illuminating huge stalagmites and pillars of stone. The endless drip of water echoed in the darkness.

It seemed as if he had been wandering for years in this endless labyrinth; was he sixteen going on seventeen, or was he seventeen already? Not that it mattered any; he would be spending the rest of the foreseeable future down here.

Often he wondered how deep the caverns went, and whether he would find anything in his wanderings. Sometimes he thought of old legends about kobolds living under the mountains, and sometimes he daydreamed about finding a subterranean city. More often he dreamed about being back on the surface.

There was a knocking noise, and all of a sudden he found himself in an old mine. The sudden shift disoriented him. The knocking got louder. "Captain!"

"This isn't how it was," he told himself. "It was ages before I found the mine."

"Captain! It's Lieutenant Gammell!"

...and the captain raised himself to his elbows as the door slid open. "Wh..." He stopped to yawn, and sat up. He was in his quarters, lying in his bed, and Lugosi Gammell was standing just inside the room looking as if he had stepped into a dragon's lair. "What?"

"It's Kaven, sir. He's started to wake up."

"Already?" It had only been three days since Demarco had brought him back.

"Well..." Gammell thought a moment, then said: "You've been asleep for the past seventeen hours, sir."

"_Seventee—_" the captain began, but stopped himself. He had been awake for forty-eight hours before that. "Fair enough. I'll be there shortly." 

* * *

"How is he?" the captain asked, upon entering the private room they had put Kaven in. Captain Demarco was sitting in a chair at the knight's side, his tunic draped over the back of the chair and a datapad lying forgotten on the bed by Kaven's hand.

"He's...alive." Demarco's gaze shifted to his superior. "I can't believe it. When he came, he had been about to die. And then he...lasted the night. And then the next day. And the next..." He glanced back to Kaven. The pilot was a mess, but his face had gotten some colour underneath the bruises and he wasn't so frighteningly ashen now. "It's like his life is being extended by hours. Do you think he's using the Force?"

"He's in no condition to be using it." Captain Rathbone sat down in the second chair, the one Jan had occupied before Demarco had sent him off to go get some sleep. "So he's begun to wake up, I'm told."

Demarco smiled. "Just for a moment each time. But it's enough."

The older man looked at the knight. "He's going to live," he said. Demarco glanced at him and saw that he was smiling. It was a genuine, warm smile. _I haven't seen him look like that for a long time, _the young captain thought.

"Jan will be glad to hear it," he said. Until Kaven's survival had become a possibility it had been heartbreaking to see his brother waiting, worrying, dreading the inevitable but hoping for the impossible.

Rathbone sat back. Ten years had fallen off his face. "I cannot begin to say how glad _I _am." Then he looked back to Demarco. "You look tired."

"I'm all right. No...I'm better than all right. We're not losing him after all, as long as he doesn't get any worse." Demarco got up and leaned over Kaven. Beneath the collar of his pyjamas he could see bandages, through which a bit of red had begun to seep. There was hardly any of Kaven's body visible for the bandages. The knight had been clawed and bitten as if he had been fighting some savage animal instead of a Dark Jedi, and his right arm was in a cast. The young captain brushed a bit of hair from Kaven's forehead with one gloved hand. _His face is all right. Just bruised. The rest of him, though..._ "The doctor says he'll start him on the bacta tank soon."

At Demarco's touch the pilot's brow furrowed a little. "Captain, he's waking up," the officer said, as Kaven began to rouse. The older man was at his side immediately.

Kaven's green eyes opened halfway. He looked at them without seeing them, and said something, though Demarco could not understand a word of it, and then his eyes fell closed again.

"Just rest," Captain Rathbone said kindly, and straightened. "I think it's best he have a vacation after this," he said to Demarco. "Stay on Canaida and relax, and get himself back."

"Yes, I agree. He's been through enough." Demarco gave his superior a serious look. "Captain. Don't say I ought to be the only one keeping him company, though." The older man looked hesitant, then nodded. The younger man went to the door. "If you're staying with him for a while, then I think I could do with some...fresh air." He had been trying to do as much work as he could sitting in the room, but there was a pile in his office that needed to be done.

"Take your time," Captain Rathbone said, as Demarco stepped out. 

* * *

_He looks a fright, _the captain thought, once he and Kaven were alone again. The knight's condition had stabilized and he looked better than he had even two days ago, but there was hardly a square centimetre that was not bruised or cut. His face was purple and yellow on one side, and beneath his collar the captain could see the lacerations made by the Dark Jedi's teeth, or at least the bloodstains on the bandages covering them.

"How much of this is my fault, I wonder?" the captain mused. He reached out and put his hand on Kaven's, and the knight stirred at the touch, but didn't wake. _You and I have a lot of talking to do, _the captain thought. _Once you're well..._

* * *

Admiral Makar's fleet had arrived at Tel Sharis, bringing with it a handful of smaller ships, each with its own complement of fighters. During the visit to Nar Shaddaa the admiral had called in all sorts of favours and hired a few mercenaries, as many as he dared, and now he felt the thrum of tension as the _Imperial Dawn _and its complement approached the ISB fleet and that of Admiral Dyer. At his side Captain Bast leaned closer and asked, in a low voice, "Can we really count on these hired guns?"

"No," the old man said. He stood on the bridge of his flagship with his cane in hand, watching the five Star Destroyers grow larger as they approached. Admiral Dyer's fleet had three, the ISB had two and two frigates. Admiral Makar had two and two, and four mercenary ships slightly smaller than his frigates. "They'll fight until it comes down to it, then they'll turn tail and run, at best. They're being paid to fight for us, not die for us, and they know that quite well. But I hope to have this battle over with quickly." He reached out and turned on the intercom. "This is Admiral Makar. All hands, man your battle stations. Await further command." He switched it off. "At least we found those with droid pilots." The mercenaries who used droids for battle would last longer than the ones with living pilots, since they were in a safer position.

The com came to life. "_Admiral Makar, this is Admiral Shonah of the Imperial Security Bureau,_" a woman's voice said. It was a message from the _Andromeda, _the foremost of the ISB Destroyers. "_We call upon you to surrender._ _You have sixty seconds to respond._"

The bridge became a bustle of activity as naval personnel finished preparing the ship for combat, and the admiral knew it to be identical to what was going on on the bridge of every ship on his side. The seconds ticked by, and the gunners signalled that they were ready to fire.

"Concentrate your fire on the _Andromeda _and the _Sagittarius,_" Admiral Makar said. He tapped his cane. "Now. _Fire._"

There were flashes of green from the forward batteries, and explosions flashed against the shields of the enemy flagships. "Loose the TIEs," the old man said, as the _Praetorian _and the two frigates fired. 

* * *

Lieutenant Shar felt herself lift slightly in her seat as the artificial gravity of the Destroyer's hangar became the weightlessness of space. She flexed her gloved fingers and said, "All right. Let's do this, Red Squadron."

"_Roger that, Lieutenant._"

The three TIEs accelerated into the field along with the other ships, the lot of them looking like candy being spilled from a box. The pilot could only imagine what the enemy was thinking at seeing that. As they entered the field of battle, the irrelevant thoughts blew away as if the speed of their advance had blown them off.

The grey TIEs met the rainbow ones, and the result was multicoloured chaos. One of Bryn's co-pilots fired on a TIE Fighter fast approaching them, and it exploded. "Nice shot, Varos," she said, swerving to avoid a burst of fire from the TIE's partners. Her return fire destroyed the first of them, and after a few quick manoeuvres the second succumbed to fire from Shar and Norah.

Out of the corner of her eye Lieutenant Shar caught a glimpse of yellow, and then the red-orange circle of an explosion, followed by another, and finally a third. A trio of greens screamed by, firing on the ISB TIEs, and further on two pink Interceptors were tangling with a trio of greys. A _Lambda-_class shuttle had left the hangar of the _Imperial Dawn, _and was making its way toward the planet with its escort of three blue Interceptors.

From what she could see, Mint Squadron was dominating the field. Everywhere they went, explosions followed. All nine of them were intact even in the thick of things, and they zigged and zagged and swirled among the ISB ships like homicidal bonbons. It fired Bryn Shar's already healthy sense of competition, and she thought: _At the end of this it will be _Red _that has the field._

"Let's go," she ordered, and they plunged into battle. 

* * *

There came the flash of an explosion from the bridge of one of Admiral Dyer's ships—the _Maenad_—and it gradually stopped firing. _Pity it wasn't the flagship_, Admiral Makar thought. He could almost picture Admiral Dyer standing on the bridge of the _Sagittarius_,cursing as the first of his ships went down.

"Admiral Makar," an officer said. Makar turned to see a lieutenant in the bridge pit looking up from his station. "The shuttle we sent planetside has been destroyed along with its escort."

The admiral nodded curtly and turned to Lieutenant Fell, who looked back at him like a deer in the headlights. "Go to the hangar," he ordered. "Get the reserve shuttle and go planetside along with Lieutenant Karne and his squad. You will be their pilot. You know where to go."

"Y-yes, Admiral!" Fell left the bridge. The old man turned back to the viewports. 

* * *

Lieutenant Fell entered the hangar at a run. Lieutenant Karne and his men were already there, boarding the reserve shuttle. _I've got to do this, _Fell thought. _But going out there is like flying into a blender! No, no. I was a good pilot at the academy. I can do this, can't I? It's just a short trip. Ahhhh..._

Karne looked at him and nodded. His brown face was grim. "Let's do this," he said.

They boarded the shuttle.

Fell sank into the pilot's chair. _This is my first mission for the New Empire, _he thought, starting up the ship and directing it out of the hangar. Its wings lowered, and they began to pick up speed. Star Destroyers shot at each other amid swarms of TIEs and mercenary ships. The darkness of space was lit with flashing lights like fireworks, each bloom of red and orange the death of another pilot. Fell swallowed. _Don't be a weenie, _he told himself, and accelerated.

"Bomber at three o'clock," said his co-pilot, a man named Mordecai.

His lips thin, the naval officer began to swing the ship to deal with the TIE before it launched a missile at them, but there was a streak of red in the viewports and another deathly bloom, and then a sextet of red TIEs had surrounded the shuttle.

The com came to life. "_We're your escorts now,_" a woman's voice said. It had a no-nonsense tone to it. Lieutenant Shar? "_Proceed, M-14._"

"A...appreciated, Red Leader," Fell replied, and with their new escort they made their way toward the planet.

There was a rush of atmospheric heat followed by the intangible white blanket of the clouds, and then they were flying over a sea of green. From up here the jungle planet actually looked pleasant. "Where to?" Lieutenant Karne asked, from behind Fell. "I didn't expect to get this mission."

"Those mountains." Fell nodded toward a series of cloud-ringed peaks north of the base. "They're going to be meeting us on a plateau on the east side of the range." His fingers moved across the control board, and there was a brief hum as the ship's computer ran a scan on the base defences. The ion cannons had been disabled by some lucky shots from the Admiral's TIEs, but there were enemy TIEs coming at them from the base. Counting six, seven, eight, and more, the lieutenant accelerated, trusting in Bryn Shar and her squadron to protect them.

The mountains grew closer. A grey TIE screamed over the shuttle, then veered away as Fell fired on it. "_Lieutenant,_" Shar said over the radio. "_We're outnumbered. Make for the landing site as quickly as you can, we'll—_lookoutTIEeightoclock—"

Fell suddenly swung aside, but the shuddering impact of a shot shook the ship, and from the passengers' compartment came yells and an odd whistling sound. The sound of an explosion rolled over them, and the lieutenant thought: _We shouldn't be able to hear that._ The shuttles were soundproof.

"The fuselage has a hole in it," Karne said, from behind the pilots. There was the high-pitched whine of blaster shots, and green streaks shot past the viewports. "We're all right. Just get us to the plateau."

_All right? _the naval officer thought. _This ship's not space-worthy anymore!_

A grey Interceptor flew past them, trailing smoke, and Fell decelerated to avoid crashing headlong into it. By now the battle outside was so noisy that the young officer could barely hear himself think, and over the noise he caught only the tail end of Lieutenant Shar's message. "—_mikaze; look _out!"

"Wh—" Before Fell could ask her to repeat herself they heard the fast-approaching scream of a TIE, and then something hit the starboard wing; this was followed by a _crack-boom _so loud that everyone winced, and when Fell tried to manoeuvre he found it increasingly difficult. The craft had been badly damaged by the TIE's explosion.

Another explosion sounded amid the blaster shots. "We'll have to make an emergency landing," the young man said. He could see why Lieutenant Dahl had been shot down so quickly, and the man had been a better pilot than Fell.

He angled the ship downward by degrees. A red Interceptor plunged past the shuttle into the jungle canopy, leaving a line of thick black smoke behind it. Fell leaned forward in his seat, trying to find a good spot to land. He spotted a small open area a kilometre in front of them. "Get the shields at full power," he said.

"What we have left, anyway. Yes, sir," said Mordecai.

Leaves and branches smacked the viewports and hull as they nosed downwards. Vines tore and multicoloured birds took flight at their destructive passing, and they roared into the clearing in a spray of dirt and greenery. With a crack they ran headlong into a huge old tree, and the last thing Fell saw was the control board rushing up to meet him. 

* * *

Varos had been shot down not long after they had engaged the TIEs from the Tel Sharis base, and when Norah succumbed to fire from a duo of Fighters, Bryn Shar gripped the control lever so hard the leather of her gloves creaked.

She swung the starfighter around. The shuttle had disappeared into the treetops, and a steady column of black smoke rising from the canopy made the pilot wonder if Fell and his passengers had survived the crash.

"Twelve," she muttered. In the distance there were TIEs, but as she watched, half of them rose until they were nothing but black specks, then disappeared. _Joining the battle up there._

She was the last of the sextet that had gone to escort the lieutenant to ground level. Her eyes narrowing beneath her helmet, Bryn rose to follow them. 

* * *

At Admiral Makar's side, Captain Bast stiffened. "Admiral," he said. "Another ship has come out of hyperspace. It's...it's an Interdictor."

"What...?" The admiral turned, and a chill leapt across his shoulders when he saw the new Star Destroyer looming in their field of vision, grey and swollen with huge lumps along its hull. It was accompanied by a smaller Destroyer. "Bloody _hell,_" Makar growled. "There's no leaving till that thing's taken down, then." An Interdictor could prevent them going to hyperspace so long as its gravity well generators were functional.

"_Admiral Alan Makar,_" said a familiar voice over the com. "_This is Major Severus Sturm of the security bureau. Once again we call upon you to surrender. If you do, you and your men will be spared._"

_Yes, and that might well be worse, _the old man thought. "I'm sorry, Major, but I cannot comply," he said.

Sturm sighed. "_Sir, half of your mercenaries are dead, one of your frigates has been destroyed, and you are very much outnumbered. What are you fighting for here? The few neo-imperials left on Tel Sharis?_" The admiral didn't answer. "_Commander Dias is no longer here. He is in the hands of the bureau now. There is nothing here worth sacrificing your fleet for, Admiral. Spare them, and surrender to us._"

For a long time the admiral was silent, his mouth working under his moustache. _I had hoped to get Dias back, at least, _he thought, and for one moment he was almost tempted to give in.

Then he turned to Captain Bast. "Concentrate all your fire on that Interdictor."

"Sir," said the captain, pointing. Admiral Makar turned, and swore so loudly that some of the officers in the bridge pits jumped.

Another Star Destroyer had come to join the battle. This one had an odd look, and as it grew closer they could see a strange swirling pattern on the upper part of the bow. Something about it seemed familiar to the admiral. "That's not...?"

"_Admiral Alan Makar, I presume,_" said a deep voice over the com. "_This is Captain Niemand of the _Sepia._ We have been looking for you for a long time._"

"Captain, I believe we ought to skip the introductions," said the admiral. "All I want to know right now is whether you are friend or foe."

"_Admiral, this man is a friend to no one,_" said Sturm. The channel was open. "_He is a pirate._"

The fire between Makar's fleet, Dyer's fleet, and Shonah's fleet had not ceased, though the _Sepia _had neither fired nor been fired upon as of yet. "_I am a pirate,_" said Niemand, "_forced by circumstance. But I am an officer in the imperial navy, and I seek the New Empire. If you would take me to see Captain Rathbone and his knights, I will offer you my assistance._"

Come to think of it, the admiral thought, he had heard of the _Sepia _before. The Destroyer had been a modified ship that some rebellious officer and his crew had stolen, and for more than a year they had been cruising through space, attacking _mostly _Republic ships, although they had taken more than one imperial mercantile ship and its cargo. Nothing was known about the captain or his motivations, or even whether Niemand was his real name or not. _The enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend, _Makar thought. "All right, Captain," he said. "If circumstances allow it after this is over, I will take you to the New Empire." _If circumstances allow._

"_A wise decision,_" said Captain Niemand...and the _Sepia's _tentacles unfurled.

Makar had known of the ship's modifications before, but it still astounded him to see them in action. There were nine of the tentacles, and when they lifted he could see furrows in the hull of the ship where the appendages had rested. The tentacles reared up and flared, and as they stretched out they grew thinner, more tapering, until they were no more than long cables attached to a thicker base. One of them whipped out and snagged a TIE Bomber, then swung around in the direction of the Interdictor. In a lightning-swift motion it threw the Bomber at the ship, and there was the bright flash of an explosion against the hull near one of the gravity well generators. Another tentacle had grabbed a Defender and seemed to be aiming at one of the swells.

_A wise decision indeed, _thought the old man. Behind him Bast was barking orders at the bridge crew, and under his feet he felt the hum of blaster shots hitting the Destroyer's shields. _Hurry up, Fell..._

* * *

Lieutenant Fell's eyes opened, and the first thing he saw was the jungle canopy overhead. His face hurt, and a dark shape was looming over him, shaking his shoulder. He made an incoherent sound and sat up, and the figure reshaped itself into the form of Lieutenant Karne. "You all right?" the army officer asked. They were near a huge tree, and when Fell looked up he could see the shuttle lodged in its branches. One wing was gone. "Heck of a landing, Fell."

Fell wiped his face, and his hand came away red. He took a second to check that all of his teeth were still there (yes), and that his nose wasn't broken (it wasn't, although it did hurt), then said, "Yeah. I'm okay." He got up, carefully. "How long was I...?"

"Just a few minutes." Around them were half a dozen Stormtroopers, and Mordecai (currently nursing a broken and swollen nose), and as Fell looked around, a scout trooper climbed down from the tree with his rifle slung over his back.

"Less than two kilometres to the plateau," he reported.

"At least we got _some _luck," said Karne.

Fell shook his head. "We're not getting back into space with that thing," he said, pointing to the shuttle, which was tilting alarmingly by this time. "Even if I could get it in the air again, there's a hole in the fuselage."

"Here's what we'll do," said the black man. "We'll go get our buddies, then go back to the base and steal one of their ships."

"Steal one from the ISB!"

"You got a better option?"

"...No."

"Okay. Then let's go."

Halfway to the plateau Fell got the impression that they were being watched, and the feeling only got stronger as they went. Once he heard a rustle in the bushes, but he had turned to see nothing there. Further on, a stick broke underfoot, and he had spun with his blaster out to see a small grey rodent with three red eyes looking at him. "Ki?" it asked, and then ran back into the bushes.

"Oh," said Fell, and ran to catch up with the group. It didn't occur to him that the rodent had been too small to have broken the stick.

Behind him two yellow-eyed, reptilian aliens raised their heads above the line of the ferns. They watched the officer disappear down the path. Then the taller turned to the shorter and clouted it over the head, hissing an admonishment. The shorter clutched its head and whimpered an apology.

Then the heads lowered again. 

* * *

The plateau was a reasonably flat section of rock that was just large enough for a shuttle to touch down, and the moment the ten of them finished climbing up onto it, they found themselves surrounded by two dozen troopers and a handful of officers, all of whom were pointing their blasters at them.

"Right, who are you?" asked an officer with choppy blonde hair. She wore a grey undershirt that was damp with sweat, and her tunic was tied around her waist. She held a blaster pistol in both hands.

"I'm Lieutenant Fell," the naval officer said, looking uncomfortably at the semicircle of blaster muzzles. "Admiral Makar sent me."

The woman lowered her blaster. "Oh, stars. Finally. I'm Lieutenant Nalian. Where's your ship?"

"Er...in a tree."

Nalian stared at him with the patient disbelief of someone who could not possibly have heard what they had. "A tree."

"We were shot down. We're getting a ship from the base."

There were displeased murmurs from the neo-imperials. "Uh!" said Nalian. "Well, if that's the only way we're getting off this rock, so be it. At the very least, we've got a few extra speeder bikes we stole from the ISB scouts. They've been hunting us for the last week, and half of us have been shot already." She shook her head, then turned and signalled to the others. "Come on. We're going."

"Lead the way, Lieutenant," said Karne. Nalian seemed to be the unofficial group leader. She nodded, and they started down the slopes to where a row of speeder bikes hovered.

There were ISB troopers and officers in white tunics all over the place, Fell saw, once they had reached the outskirts of the base. There was a shuttle on one of the landing pads at the airfield, but there were Stormtroopers patrolling the field and there was no way the refugees would get to the ship safely.

"I'll take a few troopers and see if I can cause a distraction," said Karne. "You lot wait further in. I'll get you on the com when it's safe to go."

"You'll get yourself killed," said Fell. Karne just shook his head and told him not to worry. The younger man protested. After a few minutes of arguing the army officer managed to convince Fell to go stay with the others, took two of his Stormtroopers, and the groups split up.

For a while Fell waited with the others, but as the minutes passed he grew restless, and started to pace. Finally, after a half hour of waiting, he went back to where he could see the airfield through the foliage. There was no sign of Karne and the others. _Come on, _he thought, feeling an unpleasant gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly someone grabbed him from behind, and a large hand came down over his mouth. "_Mmph!_" He fought, but the man holding him was much stronger than he was, and he heard a voice hiss in his ear: "_Be quiet and quit fighting!_"

In response, Fell bit him. The man cursed and let go of him, and the lieutenant sprang away, turning to face him, drawing his blaster at the same time.

The man who had grabbed him wore a stained and tattered army uniform, and his dark hair looked cut with a knife. He would have been a handsome man, if it weren't for the hollowed-out, grubby look he had. There was a holster at his hip, but it was empty. There was a thin little scar on one cheek, and beneath his arched brows his grey eyes were angry. "You work for Admiral Dyer?" he asked. Fell didn't answer. The man took a step forward. "I _said, _do you work for Admiral Dyer? What, don't you speak Basic?"

"I work for Admiral _Makar,_" said Fell, drawing himself up. "I'm part of the New Empire."

The man relaxed. "Oh, goody. As it happens, so am I. Why are you here? You fighting the security bureau?"

"We're here to rescue neo-imperials." Fell's eyes moved to the pips at the man's breast. _Those are a commander's pips. But that's not Dias._ "Who are you?"

"Why don't you lower the blaster, and I'll tell you?" Fell didn't move. "I'm unarmed, unless you think I can fire lasers from my eyes," the man growled. The lieutenant lowered his blaster. "Thank you. I'm Commander Maldict."

_Wasn't he supposed to be dead? _"Lieutenant Fell."

Maldict turned, and said something in a language that sounded like rocks falling down a hill. Two reptilian heads rose from the bushes, and Fell's eyes grew huge. Maldict nodded his head to the side and said something else, and the two lizard-people ran off.

"They said there wasn't a sentient species here," the lieutenant stammered.

"So I thought, till I woke up surrounded by them." The older man looked around, distractedly. "Let's go join my men. It's about damn time they had a commander again."

"Y...yes, sir." 

* * *

Nalian and the others had been waiting in a small clearing for Karne's signal, and when Lieutenant Fell arrived with another man following him, the young woman jumped to her feet, gaping.

It couldn't be. It was impossible. He was dead, and he had been dead for months, but now he was standing before them, tattered and scarred but alive. For a moment all Nalian could do was splutter, but finally she managed, "Commander _Maldict?_"

Maldict looked the group over and smiled. "You all look like you've seen a ghost."

"How did you...?"

The commander waved a hand. "Later, Lieutenant..." He stared at her for a moment, trying to remember her name. It had been a long time since they had last seen each other, and even longer since they had spoken. "...Nalian."

A squiggle came from Lieutenant Fell's comlink, and he drew it. After listening to the message, he looked up. "We need to go to the airfield now."

The group got up and started away. Nalian noticed a couple of Kishis perched on the lower boughs of a nearby tree; as Maldict passed by he looked up, and his face went white at the sight of the rodents. He hurried by, looking almost as skittish as Fell himself.

The Stormtroopers were still patrolling the airfield by the time the group got within sight, but as they drew closer there was another squiggle from Fell's com, and then the sound of an explosion rolled over them. There were distant shouts, and on the other side of the base a thick column of black smoke rose. A second explosion followed. The Stormtroopers on the airfield paused, then ran towards the commotion.

"Get going," Nalian ordered her troopers, pointing to the shuttle. The troopers ran for it, covering the officers. An alarm began to ring across the base, and at her side Commander Maldict swore.

"Yes, Admiral! We're coming, we've got the men now," said Fell, into his com.

"We've got company, too," said a scout. Nalian looked. Lieutenant Karne and a Stormtrooper were rocketing toward them on speeder bikes. Karne had lost his hat at some point, while his sole remaining trooper's armour was covered with scorch marks and looking the worse for wear. Four scouts on speeder bikes were in hot pursuit.

Nalian drew her blaster and fired, and missed, and when the pilot with the broken nose fired _he _missed, and Karne and his trooper went roaring by; the shuttle's ramp had lowered by now, and Maldict ducked inside along with the pilot. "Come on," the commander said. Karne and the trooper leapt off their bikes and came running. The scouts had swung around by now and were preparing to fire on the shuttle. The ship started up. Fell raised his blaster and shot at one of the scouts, and the man fell from his bike. Nalian grabbed him by the collar and hauled him into the ship along with the troopers. As they raised the ramp, there came the sounds of blaster fire around them. Fell pushed past the Stormtroopers and went into the cockpit, and a few moments later they were lifting up, and up, and then the base disappeared beneath the clouds. 

* * *

"Sixteen," Bryn Shar muttered, swerving to avoid fire from an enemy Interceptor. She was on her own now, and her heart was beating fast as she ducked and rolled and swerved, trying to avoid the trio of TIEs pursuing her. All three of her solar arrays were scratched and battered by now, and part of her feared that her ship would blow up if she so much as sneezed.

She caught the white flash of a shuttle going by, and flew in front of it. The three Interceptors followed it, and one of them was destroyed in a burst of fire from the ship. She swung around beneath the shuttle, came up around the aft end, and fired on the second of the remaining two TIEs. There came a bright flash of red and yellow as it exploded, and the other Interceptor swung out of the way. The shuttle accelerated. "Seventeen," she growled.

Mint Squadron was still whole, and three of the greens remained, but otherwise the only surviving TIEs belonging to Admiral Makar came in ones. Bryn chased the Interceptor closer to the _Imperial Dawn, _which was now looking heavily battered, and shot it down as the shuttle closed with the Destroyer. "Eighteen!"

There were shuttles moving between the _Imperial Dawn, _the _Praetorian, _and the two frigates, which had been disabled if not destroyed completely. Grey TIEs were harassing the lines of ships, and Mint Squadron had taken it upon themselves to keep them off of them.

Her com came on. "_Attention, all pilots,_" said flight control. "_Return to your ships immediately._"

"Roger that," she said.

The three remaining green ships flew by, skirted past a wing of grey bombers, firing all the while, and went for the hangar. A white-and-red Fighter followed, and when it entered the atmosphere of the hangar Bryn caught a glimpse of smoke beginning to rise from it.

Another trio of Interceptors came at her, firing. She prepared to engage them, but to her chagrin one of the Mints destroyed the one she had been targeting before she had a chance to fire. The second Interceptor followed the first. "No, that's mine!" She swung around, and fired. The grey TIE evaded her shots. "_Red Leader,_" said the flight control officer in her ear, "_return to the _Imperial Dawn _at once._"

"Roger that, sir!" She cursed as the TIE dodged her shots again. _I'm the greater pilot, _she thought. They circled each other.

"_Red Leader,_" said flight control, and now he sounded tense, "_we are preparing to go to hyperspace. Return to the hangar immediately, or be left behind!_"

The TIE exploded, and the lieutenant laughed. "I'm the _greatest _pilot!" she exulted, and then lost control of her ship. 

* * *

When the tractor beam had finished hauling Lieutenant Shar's Defender into the hangar, Roon Sarda had to wince a little at the beating it had received. The hatch opened and a black TIE pilot's helmet poked up out of it. Roon could hear muffled laughter from beneath the helmet, and it grew louder as Shar reached up and removed it. Her face was flushed and sweaty, and wisps of hair clung to her cheeks and forehead. She looked happier than Roon had ever seen her, and once she had climbed down she held onto one solar array for support, her shoulders shaking.

"She's drunk!" said one of the Mints.

"On _power,_" said another.

"Nineteen," said Lieutenant Shar. She ceased her laughter and held up a finger. "Nineteen ships shot down. I broke...his record."

Roon knew who she was talking about. There were low whistles and scattered claps from the surviving pilots. "Well done, Red Leader," said Kore, from where he stood beside his wing mate.

"Red Leader?" Roon asked. "No. More like Red _Queen_."

Bryn Shar smiled. "Yes," she said. 

* * *

"_Admiral,_" said Captain Niemand, over the com. "_Makar, you can't just leave now!_"

"I'm sorry, Captain," said the old man. Outside the viewports the Interdictor ship had been taken down, and most of the mercenary ships had either been destroyed or had fled. "We're five minutes from being killed. We have to leave now." His flagship's shields had been taken down, and the hull of the ship had been battered, scorched, and even punctured in places. Half the bulkheads were sealed shut against the hull breaches by now, and one of the sublight engines was making an ominous rasping noise.

"Ready, Admiral!" Lieutenant Stone called, from the navigator's console.

"Captain, thank you for your help," said Admiral Makar. The _Sepia _had turned toward them and was beginning to come closer, its tentacles reaching out. "We'll meet you if we can sometime later. Until then, goodbye." He turned to Stone. "Get us to Canaida."

"_ADMIRAL—_"

The com cut off as the two Star Destroyers left in the admiral's fleet made the jump to hyperspace, and as the stars stretched to lines, there was an audible sigh of relief from the bridge at large.

"Five years without a single loss," said the old officer, "and then this." He rubbed his temple. "I can only hope that Dias died before they got any vital information from him." Then he raised his head. "Inform me of any changes, Bast. I have someone I need to see now."

"Yes, Admiral," said his captain. 

* * *

_This is heaven, _thought Commander Maldict, as he lay soaking in the tub. The air around him was heavy with vapour, and more steam rose from the hot water. No jungle, no leeches, no sweltering heat, no dirt, no vines, no bugs, no _Kishis_—no nothing he had come to hate about Tel Sharis. It was good to be clean again, to be able to bathe without worrying about fish trying to chew his legs off, to be able to shave with an actual razor and not his knife, to have a clean uniform, to have actual soap, to—

There was a pounding on the door. "Somebody's in here," Maldict called, sinking lower into the water. The surface of it was thick with soap suds, and nothing below his shoulders was visible. He purred.

The door suddenly slid open and he sat up. "Can't a man have some privacy?" he demanded, as Admiral Makar came barging in.

"You've got nothing I haven't, boyo." The old man pulled up a bench with his foot, then took a seat directly across from him, resting both hands on the handle of his cane. "And you've got some explaining to do."

Maldict reached for the keypad, and the door slid shut. He settled back down, looking at the naval officer over the mountain of foam. "Why aren't you dead?" the admiral asked. "How are you still alive? Why didn't you contact the base? Why did you let yourself be presumed dead? And what the _hell _were you doing with Thule?" He thumped his cane on the tile floor. "For that matter, you'd better explain yourself about Jan Kaven as well, seeing as how you're likely to be meeting his older brother soon."

The commander sat up. There were more thin scars on his arms and chest, most of which were thanks to the Kishis and assorted wildlife of Tel Sharis. "I didn't contact the base because I lost my com after getting attacked."

"By whom? Lieutenant Kaven?"

"By the...local wildlife. They tore my uniform up." Maldict pointed toward a heap of tattered cloth in the corner. It had been mended and torn and mended again, and it was only just recognizable as being imperial by now. "I was found by some of the locals after the attack, and they kept me with them for a while." He considered. "How long has it been, three months? Four?"

"Try eight, more or less." The admiral leaned forward. "So, there is sentient life on Tel Sharis. What about them?"

"They're primitives. Jungle tribes. Lizard people about a metre tall. They didn't live anywhere near the base, but they knew about it. _Eight _months?"

"So they saved you."

"That's what I said. Eight months? God, I must have been sick longer than I thought." Maldict shrugged. "They were giving me all sorts of 'medicines,' and half the time they were doing more harm than good. They're the sort of people who think leeching can cure anything, Admiral. That's no help to somebody who lost as much blood as I had. By the time I got better, they'd taken me past the mountains." He had spent most of his time unconscious or feverish. While he was recovering, he had tried to learn how to talk to the Sharians, but he had never gotten very good at their language. "I tried to find the base. It wasn't until the security bureau came that I'd managed to get back there. Imagine my surprise when they started shooting at me." The commander snorted. "Why was the ISB there, anyway?"

The admiral told him about the events of the last few months. "They've been searching for neo-imperials. Tel Sharis is entirely theirs now. Lambda Station got destroyed in the fighting."

"Sounds like everything's gone to hell lately."

"Oh, it has. It has. Now, Maldict...what were you doing with Thule?"

Maldict hadn't talked so much for eight months, and he was tired of it. He forced his thoughts into line, forced himself to cooperate, even though all he wanted was to close his eyes and wait for the old man to go away. "Thule...oh, yeah, that guy. He wanted to defect to the New Republic, and I wanted to go to the New Empire, so I strung him along a bit. Things got messy when he chose to frame Kaven's older brother, and Kaven got involved. Thule wanted to get rid of him as well."

The admiral stared at him. "Messy, and messier still when you decided you couldn't keep your hands off Jan Kaven."

Maldict at least had the decency to look embarrassed. "He's a...good-looking kid."

Admiral Makar blew a sigh through his nose. "And twenty years younger than you."

Water slopped over the rim of the tub as the younger man sat bolt upright. "That never stopped _you, _old man!" he protested. Makar had something of a reputation for being a ladies' man, and that hadn't ceased even in his sixties.

"I never saw fit to hit on anyone in my chain of command, let alone a man, let alone my aide, let alone trying to force it!" the admiral growled.

"Force—" Maldict remembered Jan panicking when he had tried to kiss him, and got a bad feeling. "He said I'd tried to force him?"

"That does seem to be the story," Makar said, dryly. "I suppose you'd beg to differ?"

"It wasn't like that," the younger man replied. "I did try to kiss him, but...I was going to give him a choice..."

"Between what?" the admiral asked. "Between sleeping with you or being left to Thule?" Maldict tried to protest, but the old man held up a hand. "You know, Maldict, the moment we get back to Canaida, I'm going to have a devil of a time convincing Erril Kaven _not _to strangle you. Don't make me any more motivated to let him."

"If he's a Jedi, what's to stop him doing it anyway?" Maldict asked, sullenly.

Admiral Makar leaned forward. "Lee Rathbone," he said. 

* * *

"I want everything that you've gathered on him," said Commander Marwyn. From where they stood across from him on the balcony, Major Diehl and Commander Stavan nodded. "We know that he's from Mobius, which explains the title, and we know—"

"Pardon me, sir?" asked Diehl. "The title?"

The coolness of the Mernallian morning had put Marwyn in a good mood, and he forgave the interruption this time. "Captain Rathbone," he said. "In Mobian tradition, _captain _can be synonymous with _commander._ I suspect he's used this to his advantage; non-Mobians hear _captain _and think only _captain_, and conclude that he's of no account or else reports to someone higher. Mobians hear _captain _and know that he may well be the commander." Rathbone had used it as camouflage until now.

"I...see." Major Diehl's dark eyes moved to Stavan.

Stavan didn't look at Diehl. "You are from Mobius, sir?" he asked Marwyn, who nodded. He had been born and raised in the area of Johanneston. "I've heard that there were rumours of a boy running with a giant wolf...?"

Marwyn had been a child when the Clone Wars had ended, and he remembered sometimes playing at being the wolf-boy, running about with a stick and a sheet for a cloak, make-believing the giant wolf. "Yes, there are those rumours."

"There is some suggestion that the wolf-boy might have been Lee Rathbone," Stavan said, and at his side Diehl winced.

The ISB officer was amused. "Running with the wolves, you say?" he asked, laughing. "I'm sure he battled many a giant out in the wilds as well. Those wolves are half myth. One of them is supposed to eat the sun at the end of the world."

"But I saw—" Stavan began, but Diehl said over him, "We both saw one."

Marwyn's amusement faded. "...What?" he asked, giving them both a sideways look. Both looked sincere. "You'd better not be lying."

"We're not," said the major.

Marwyn stared at them a moment longer; some people found his gaze unsettling, and he had often used it to his advantage. Neither Stavan nor Diehl balked under that stare. He turned and went to the edge of the balcony on which they stood, and put his hands on the balustrade. Below them was the ruined town and the field where destroyed AT-STs and AT-ATs lay, and the ravine where they had found more dead ISB troopers. Nobody knew how large the New Empire was, but it had enough forces to overrun two installations, at the very least. _Best I keep these two close, _he thought. _After they pick up Kaine, I'll take them to Nar Shaddaa with me._ "Major Diehl," he said.

"Yes, sir."

He turned. "_I_ will be your commander now, and from now on you will report to me. Commander Stavan, continue your work with Major Diehl as before." Stavan nodded in acknowledgement.

Diehl's face was expressionless. "Yes, sir," he said. 

* * *

"I'm glad you decided to come," Sutler said, guiding Nova through the restaurant. Outside the sun was setting on Vesper, and the high light of early evening poured in through the windows. "I know you wanted to...meditate, but it's best that you stop every now and then, I think."

"Mmhm," said the Jedi. She hadn't gotten herself back entirely since leaving Mernall, but she was improving, and spoke a little more often now. At first Sutler had feared that she blamed him for what had happened, but then he had realized that clamming up was just her way of coping with the loss.

They sat down at their table, and after the waitress had taken their drink orders, Nova asked, "Was this Bancroft's idea?"

"Well, yes," Sutler admitted. "The date, anyway." _Take her out, _the colonel had said earlier that day, ushering the lieutenant out of his office. _Cheer her up. Nobody wants their girlfriend to be unhappy. Let business wait for once._

"It wouldn't be Hera's," Nova said, after a while.

"I don't think she approves of us," Sutler ventured. His back was to the stage, where a trio of Twi'lek musicians were busy with their instruments.

They browsed the menus. "Are we going too slow?" the Jedi asked suddenly, and the officer looked up. "I mean. Us."

"I think it's just right," Sutler told her. "Do you think it's too slow? I could...speed up a bit, if you do."

"Sometimes I think you tease me, but...it's all right." Nova hid her reddening face behind her menu. "Oh, hey, would you look at that fish. It looks good."

Sutler smiled. "It does," he agreed. There was a slightly awkward silence, and then he said, "There's going to be a party on Misketalia at the end of the month. Ordo Scrugg is hosting one." A pair of hazel eyes regarded him over the top of the menu. "We should go."

"Yes. Let's."

The performance changed. Now a man with a coiled whip at his hip was lighting a row of candles behind the lieutenant. "We should...dress to blend in," Sutler said. "There's sure to be imperials there." He reached for his wine glass.

Suddenly there was a tremendous _crack _from behind him, and Sutler jumped in his seat at the sound of the whip. Wine spilled over the brim of his glass and onto his hand as he whirled to face the source of the sound. He sagged when he saw that it had come from the stage, where the man had snuffed a candle out with a snap of his whip, and his heartbeat began to slow again. At a second _crack _he remembered seeing the whip coiled at the imperial officer's hip, remembered him putting his gloved hand beneath Sutler's chin to lift it so that their eyes met for the first time...

"Are you all right, Aerin?" Nova asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," Sutler replied. He took his napkin and began to mop up the spilled wine. "He just startled me, that's all."

Nova didn't reply, but she didn't ask, either, and that was fine. They went back to perusing the menus. 

* * *

_I hate you, _Major Kaine thought. His eyes narrowed as he leaned over the sleeping Kaven. The knight was lying peacefully, and his heartbeat showed regular on the monitor. _I hate your guts. I hate your luck. I hate your looks. And I hate how he stays with you._ His heartbeat had quickened in his growing anger, and a part of him wanted to reach out and strangle the young man. Only the saner part of him prevented that. The saner part of him, and the presence of the captain.

He glanced over at Captain Rathbone, who was sitting in the chair beside the bed with his eyes closed and his cap clasped loosely in one hand. His hair had fallen over his brow, over his eyes, and Kaine wondered how long it had been since the captain had had a haircut. _Why am I even thinking about that, who cares, stop looking at him._ The cap was sliding. As he watched, it fell to the floor with a light _pap, _and the major stared for a moment before kneeling to get it. When his bare hand touched it, he felt the warmth of the captain's fingers still on it. The captain's knees moved, and Kaine looked up to see that the man had awakened and was reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes.

Kaine got to his feet and tossed the cap back to him, then backed off, watching him carefully. The captain rose and stretched, glancing aside at the knight. It was too warm in the little room, and he had taken his tunic off. He was in his shirtsleeves _Stop looking at him_ and as Kaine watched he _Stop looking at him _put his tunic back on, and then his cap, and then he was neat again.

"Is there something wrong?" Rathbone asked, smoothing his uniform. His voice was still husky from sleep.

"No."

"Mmm." It sounded half a purr. "I must have nodded off."

The door to the room slid open, admitting Captain Demarco. "Captain," he said. "There's a...Star Destroyer that appeared over Canaida. It's the _Imperial Dawn_."

The captain raised an eyebrow. "What? But...never mind. The _Imperial Dawn_..."

"They've sent a shuttle down," Demarco told him. "They'll be docking in the main hangar in fifteen minutes."

"We'll meet them there. Come with me, Kaine."

Kaine stood with the captains and watched the passengers disembark from the shuttle. Admiral Makar, short and stout and with cane in hand; a wide-eyed lieutenant who looked like he had only just graduated high school, let alone the academy; a buxom blue Twi'lek with scars on her lekku; a lieutenant with choppy blonde hair...Commander Maldict...

_Maldict? _Kaine thought, and the other people disembarking ceased to be of interest. _He's dead. He died. _But Maldict was there, as real and solid as Kaine himself, and when their eyes met there was a spark of recognition. _He remembers me. Well, he better. _He still remembered that scene in the cafeteria when they had first met, when Kaine had looked at him for a moment and Maldict had looked back at him and smiled before pursing his lips in a little air-kiss. Kaine had turned away in consternation, and had slammed into someone else going the other way, upsetting both of their trays.

"Kaine, right?" Maldict asked. The major gave him a hunted look and nodded. "Been a while."

"Yes," Kaine replied, wishing his voice didn't sound so squeaky.

"First...and then..." Rathbone and the admiral had their heads together, and when Makar had finished talking the captain said, "Oh, god. How much worse can it get, now?" He turned. "Kaine, go see Major Scarlet about getting these people quartered, please. The rest of you...I need to talk to the admiral. Dismissed."

Kaine left the hangar at a brisk walk, glad to be out of there. 

* * *

Lieutenant Verdan had just been returning from the cafeteria when a husky voice said in his ear, "Howdy, stranger." He turned to see Madeen standing there, one hand on her hip and a smirk on her lips.

"Oh, get a room, why don't you," said a passing engineer, as the bounty hunter pinned the officer to the wall.

"Mm, minty," said Madeen, once they had parted to breathe again. "Your room?"

"Yes," said Verdan. 

* * *

When Jan had gotten out of the shower, the last person he had expected to see in the corridors of Canaida Base was Commander Maldict. But when he turned the corner to go check in on Erril, he nearly ran into him, and when he saw who it was Jan leapt backwards with a cry of alarm. "C-Commander!"

"Kaven." There was a scar on his cheek and he had lost weight, but it was _Maldict_, without a doubt. He took a step forward, and then froze when Jan ignited his lightsaber. "You're going to run me through with that?" he asked.

Jan was silent a moment. Then he extinguished the weapon and put it back on his belt, embarrassed at his gut reaction. "No."

There was an awkward silence. "So you're a Jedi," Maldict said, eventually.

"...Not really."

"Force-sensitive."

"...Yes."

"Your brother's going to kill me, isn't he."

"...Probably."

Maldict frowned. "Can anything convince him not to?"

"Probably." Jan would have to be there when they met, to put himself between them. He didn't much like the thought of defending Maldict, but there had been enough death already lately. "I could convince him, if I wanted to."

"Yeah?" Maldict gave him a sideways look, as if unsure of what to make of the lieutenant this time around. "You want to?"

Jan's lips thinned. "You want a _favour _from me, Commander?"

Maldict's lips thinned. "I wasn't going to force you."

_Blackmailing is forcing, _the young man thought...but didn't reply. "Anyway, you won't be talking to Erril for a while," he said. "He got hurt fighting a Dark Jedi on Korriban. But don't think _I _can't defend myself, either; I've been training ever since I got to Canaida." Lately he had been forsaking his studies in favour of his brother, but no one but the captains knew that, or needed to know that. "What happened after I...after you tried...?"

The older man looked around. "I've told this story three times already," he said. "I guess once more won't hurt. The meeting's not until tomorrow, anyway."

"What meeting?"

"Captain Rathbone's got a few announcements to make. Let's just say leave is cancelled for now." 

* * *

"Do you think I'm too young for this?" Demarco asked Kaven, as they stood on the balcony with their drinks in hand. The doors were open, and inside the ballroom there were rebels and imperials alike, talking with each other. The murmur of voices flowed over them. The young officer stood with his back to the stars, leaning on the balustrade. "I guess I should be glad they're not taking me seriously. It's made my job easier."

"You're a few months younger than me?" Kaven asked. Demarco nodded. "Yeah. That's pretty young, but you've got to do it, right?"

Demarco sipped his wine. "I'm the captain now," he said, moving past the knight, "and I have a faction to lead." He went inside. Kaven watched as Demarco disappeared into the crowd.

"And I'll help you any way I can," he said.

...

Kaven opened his eyes, and slowly the brilliant white blur of the room resolved itself into clear lines again. "What?" he murmured.

"You certainly managed to get yourself beaten up," said a man's voice. Kaven slowly moved his head to see Admiral Makar standing at his bedside, moustachioed and grandfatherly. "Though I imagine I should have seen the other guy."

"Admiral." Kaven tried to sit up more, but his body felt sluggish and heavy, and he fell back with a sigh. "Where am I?"

"Canaida," said the admiral. His bushy eyebrows were drawn down in a concerned look. "Seems you really managed to worry Lee."

The knight looked down. His right arm was in a cast, and most of his visible skin was bandaged. _Hrakis did all this?_ "Where is he?" he asked, and then winced. Admiral Makar started to turn toward the door, but Kaven growled, "Don't get the nurse or doctor or whoever. No more medication, no painkillers. Not now. I want to be awake, not drugged." His body hurt all over, but he was sick of dreaming. He began to test his motions, wriggling first his fingers and then his toes. Both legs felt all right, but the back of his left hand was sore. With annoyance he saw an IV sticking out of it. "Help me get this out of my hand."

"Is that a good idea?"

Kaven was becoming more awake by the minute. "I don't need it." The old man came back to the bedside with a cotton swab, and after they had gotten the bandage off of Kaven's hand, he pressed the puff to the entry point and gently slid the needle out. "How long have I been here?" the pilot asked, lying back with the fingers of his right hand holding the puff in place.

"The last week, from the sounds of things," Makar said. Kaven didn't answer. "Seems you've had a lot of company keeping an eye on you."

_Jan, probably. Demarco, too, maybe. _Kaven remembered seeing them. "What about Captain Rathbone? Is he...busy?"

"Very busy." The admiral reached for his com, but Kaven said, "Wait."

He shook his head. "Just let me rest, Admiral. I..." ..._don't really want to see him right now. _"...am tired. I could see Jan. But anyone else...sorry. I'm tired. I'd probably fall asleep on them." In truth, he didn't feel like talking to anyone at all. After the ordeal on Korriban and the injuries and the medication and the dreams and killing Bal and _almost _killing Nova and Sutler, he felt worn, outside and in.

"All right. As it happens, I could use a break as well." Admiral Makar nodded to him and went out, closing the door behind him. The steady _tap-tap _of his cane soon faded down the hall, and Kaven was left to his thoughts. 

* * *

Commander Dias opened his eyes, and everything hurt. He was lying on his side on a narrow cot in the prison cell he had been occupying for however long it had been since the ISB had taken him from Tel Sharis. It might have been days, it might have been weeks. He still had a bruise on the knuckles of his right hand from punching one of the troopers that had come to haul him onto the ISB ship, so maybe it hadn't been that long after all.

He braced his hands against the cot and pushed himself up, slowly and painfully. There was an old coppery taste in his mouth, and with his tongue he could feel a huge empty space where he was missing a tooth. He felt ill from the IT-O droid's injections still, tired from irregular sleep patterns, and just generally...wrong.

He had let things slip; the names of other neo-imperials, mostly, and the names of the planets where they had based themselves. They had come out after a very strong dose of sodium thiopental, and he had been careful to watch himself since then. That didn't stop them using other drugs, though...

There was the sound of someone clicking on the keypad outside the door, and he looked resignedly toward the doorway.

The door slid open, outlining two Stormtroopers. One of them held a tray in his (her?) hands, and this he set down on the floor while the other trooper kept an eye on Dias. These two had been here before, or at least a pair always came to bring and take meals, and they never said anything. They left.

Dias didn't touch the food and just sat with his head bowed, trying to shake off the aftermath of the last interrogation. After half an eternity the door slid open again, and an ISB officer came in. The commander looked up, and saw that it was a lieutenant, a young woman with blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was alone. "No troopers," he rasped.

"I can defend myself if need be," she said, and shut the door. "But I don't think I'll need to." She looked down at him. Her eyes were dark blue, and she had a bit of a squint. "I am Lieutenant Aura Fay. I am a neo-imperial."

He stared at her, then laughed and shook his head.

"You know," she said, unruffled, "that on Canaida the base of operations for Intelligence is called the Secret Clubhouse?"

He stopped in mid-laugh.

Lieutenant Fay nodded. "Now you believe me. Commander, I haven't very long to talk to you. I am here to offer you something. If you continue to live, you will break and tell the ISB everything you know."

"What are you offering me?" he asked. It hurt to talk.

She drew a syringe full of dark fluid from her sleeve, and plucked the bit of cork from the tip of the needle. "A way out," she replied.

_You knew you'd never get out of here alive the moment they brought you, _he thought, looking at the needle with wide eyes. "Poison...?" She nodded. "Bloody hell. You're here to kill me."

Fay just looked at him, the syringe held in both hands, and waited.

Dias bowed his head. "I have a wife and three daughters on Kantos," he said, eventually. "If you ever get back there, promise me one thing. You'll tell them that I love them."

"I shall."

He ran a hand through his hair. _Bloody hell. Bloody hell._ He took a deep breath.

"Do it. Give me the needle," he said, and held out his arm. 

* * *

The evening after Maldict and the others had arrived, Kaine went to the Clubhouse; on the way he stopped to talk to Major Scarlet and Lieutenant Barrie, respectively, and during those conversations he felt almost normal. Truth be told, he was more comfortable around women, and found them easier to get along with. It had been that way ever since

_(and then he punched me in the face the taste of the blood in my mouth I never forgot)_

he had been a teenager, and being in a mostly-male organization like the imperial military wasn't doing him any wonders.

_When I meet with Stavan...forget Naboo, forget all I said. All I want is to be away from here, _he thought, turning a corner._ When I meet with Stavan, he can get me out of here and I'll leave the military altogether. Stavan, I lied to you it's not the faction it's the leader it's Rathbone I can't take being around him any longer it was easier when Kaven wasn't here—_

Kaine halted outside the hidden door to the intelligencers' hideout and took a deep breath to calm himself and get his thoughts in order again. With his leave coming closer and closer and the thoughts of Commander Stavan and what he was to do looming ahead of him, he had been so tense that at times he felt on the verge of cracking. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than his own freedom, and at other times the deal he had made with Stavan was an unbearable weight on his conscience.

_This is the last chance I'll have to get that card, _Kaine thought. _I have to do it..._

He knocked on the wall, touched the hidden switch, and then went in. Fenn and Gammell were hard at work, tacking away at something on their computers, stopping only for a sip of tea every now and then. The head of intelligence was typing rapidly, staring at the screen with such intensity that it was a wonder the computer hadn't caught fire. There was an open container with the coordinate cards at his elbow.

"The meeting, right?" Snake-Eyes asked, still typing with the stroke frequency of a jackhammer. "We know."

"You're Intelligence. You ought to know," Kaine replied. He gestured to the door. "After you." The two young men got up and left, Fenn first and Gammell second. The major went swiftly to the container, took a card, and thrust it in his pocket before following them. It only weighed a few grams, but its weight was more than physical, and to him it seemed heavier than a mountain. 

* * *

The captain gave them the news in the auditorium, and when the bounty postings came up on the large screen on the wall behind him, the room exploded into noise. There were murmurs of surprise and anger, gasps, curses, oaths, hurried whispers, and a smattering of shouts, which died down soon enough.

"For those whose names and faces are on these bounty lists, upcoming leave is cancelled," said Captain Rathbone, holding up a hand. His headset amplified his words to the room at large. At his side, Demarco whispered something in his ear. "...to a point, rather. Your leaves will have to remain within the borders of neo-imperial territory. We cannot risk anyone being captured."

"This in addition to the ISB," said a Stormtrooper. "Who else has these lists?"

"The New Republic has them too, for all we know!" another trooper chimed in, and the captain had to raise his voice to be heard over the subsequent noise.

"The _ISB _possesses these lists and has hired the bounty hunters," he said.

"Who told the ISB in the first place?" an engineer called. "Half of us are presumed _dead!_"

That set off another string of shouts, as everyone tried to speak over everyone else; this time it did not die down for some time, and the rest of the meeting proceeded along similar lines. After it had finished, as all the men and women were leaving, Admiral Makar went to the captains and said, "They took that better than I thought they might."

"Bloody hell; if that's taking it well, I would hate to see taking it badly," Captain Rathbone said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We ought to arrange for some peace talks," said Demarco.

"The Empire would sooner leave us in pieces than in peace," Makar told him.

The young captain nodded. "I know. And I doubt the New Republic would feel any differently. I meant third parties, Admiral. There are a lot of neutral planets on the Outer Rim, and I...think we ought to be looking for some..._official _allies, as it were."

There was a long silence, and the old man looked again at the price portraits on the large screen behind the podium. "There's a little over three million credits on your head, Lee," he remarked.

"Obviously I haven't been pissing off the right people," the captain growled. "That's not near high enough. I shall see it twice as high by the end of the year."

"I'm satisfied with my own price," Demarco assured them. He glanced at his own wanted poster. "...They could have used a different picture, though."

"Didn't quite capture your good side, eh?" Makar smiled, though there wasn't genuine humour in it. "Good god, we're in trouble. What next, then?"

"I'm going to see Lady Delphian," Rathbone told them. "I need to think a while, and...and I suspect I need some distance from Canaida, at least for a day or so. Alan, you'll be staying a while, won't you...?"

"Quite a while, I suspect. My ship's on the verge of falling apart."

"I wish you could have brought the _Sepia _with you. Supposing that thing attacks us, now?" The admiral shrugged ruefully, and the captain went to the edge of the podium and stepped down. He bowed his head in thought, then said, "Dark Jedi. The ISB. Erril. Tel Sharis. Sometimes I wonder if this will ever end."

"Here's a little springtime for you, Mobian," Admiral Makar said. "Erril's making a remarkably quick recovery, and he woke up when I went in to have a look at him. He was speaking fairly lucidly." The younger men smiled. "I didn't have the heart to tell him that _Captain _Bryn Shar broke his record. I'll drop that bomb some other time."

"We've had enough bombs dropped for now," Demarco replied. He stepped down from the podium. "I'll see you tomorrow. I have to make a few transmissions." He waved his hand vaguely as he headed for the door.

"You're lucky to have that fellow," Admiral Makar told Rathbone, when the doors had slid shut and they were alone.

"I could not run this faction without him," the younger man replied, straightening. "Alan, if Aedin Demarco told me _he _wanted to be emperor, I would bend my knee without a second thought and so, I think, would half of Canaida."

"But I suspect you had someone else in mind for the position of emperor."

The captain got up, and turned to him. "Yes," he said. "I do." 

* * *

There was a hall window on the third floor overlooking the snowfields and the distant forest, and Demarco leaned his hands on the sill as he thought about what to do. He ran through a mental list of contacts and options, and after a few minutes he reached for the catch on the window and slid it open, letting the wintry night air blow over him. He had seen Captain Rathbone do this on occasion when he needed to think about something, but as he stood with his breath fogging in the chill air, all Demarco got out of it was cold. He shut the window.

"Needed some air, Aedin?" a woman's voice asked. He turned his head and saw with some surprise that it was Doctor Maris.

"I guess I did," he replied. "I thought you had been assigned to Daemmrung?"

"I'm running errands for Doctor Rosa," the biologist said. She was an Arkanian offshoot, and a pretty woman of about thirty, with large blue eyes and a little blue crescent high on her cheek. Whether it was a birthmark or a tattoo, Demarco didn't know, and had never asked. "When I got here, I heard all kinds of things...?"

The officer sighed. "Were you here in time for the meeting?" She shook her head, and he told her the news.

"No wonder the base cantina's packed," she said, after he had finished. He had to smile at that. They stood for a while in silence, and then she said, "You know, Aedin...you remind me of someone, sometimes."

"Who?"

"Oh...an old friend. He always seemed so serious...dour, even. But then, when he smiled..." She lifted her hands and put her fingers on her cheeks. "...there was never anyone that looked nicer."

The old friend had been more than a friend, judging by the way her eyes were sparkling, Demarco thought. "Is that why you went out with me?" he asked, wryly. "Because I reminded you of him?"

She turned to him in a swirl of white hair, flustered. "No! I went out with you because you're a—a nice guy!"

Demarco laughed aloud at her alarm. "So it _was _my...charming personality," he said. They had gone out only once, when he had asked her out to dinner; they had enjoyed the evening, but there had been no romantic spark in it and they had decided to just be friends afterward. In any case, she seemed of the opinion that he was too young for her anyway. "Why don't you join me for a drink?"

"Are you off duty?"

"I was off duty hours ago, technically speaking." He offered her his arm; she took it, and together they walked down the hall. 

* * *

_I ought to just break that card and be done with it, _Kaine thought. He ducked into a bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, his breathing fast. _Stay here. Tell Stavan to go screw himself. Let him wait, and not come. Ask the captain to transfer me anywhere as long as it's away from him. _He splashed more water and then put his hands on the sink, looking down at the drain, not wanting to look at himself in the mirror. He wanted to go to Rathbone's room and tell him everything; no, he didn't want to go to Rathbone's room, not for a thousand credits. He hardly wanted to go to his office, much less his bedroom. _There is something wrong with me, _he thought. _I think I'm going mad._ He put a hand over his eyes and swore under his breath.

The door to the bathroom opened, and he heard footsteps. He lowered his hand and saw Maldict's reflection in the mirror. _Not him, not him._ Maldict looked up and saw Kaine staring at him in the glass. "Bad news tonight," the older man said. Kaine dropped his gaze and nodded.

The commander went to the next sink and began to wash his hands. The right side of his face was smooth, but in the mirror Kaine could see the scar on his left cheek. Maldict glanced at him. "You're shaking," he said. Kaine didn't answer. "Look, we've had worse crises than being on bounty lists, and the ISB's always been after us." Kaine didn't answer. Maldict shut the tap off and went to dry his hands. "You know," he said, over the rush of hot air, "you can't imagine how often I've missed modern con—"

"How did you survive Tel Sharis?" Kaine asked, suddenly.

Maldict grunted. "I got found by locals."

Kaine turned to him, wiping moisture from his face with the back of his hand. "Is that...the only scar?" he asked, almost shyly.

The other man shut off the air and turned to him, smirking. "Want me to show you the rest?"

Kaine jumped back from him. "What are you getting at?" he demanded. Maldict just laughed. "Why are you always like this to me?"

"It's just a bit of harmless flirting."

"Harmless!" the major snapped. "Why don't you go flirt with somebody else, you—you—gigolo! I don't swing that way!" Feeling his cheeks burning, he hurried to the door. Then he turned back to Maldict. "Why don't you go flirt with Captain Rathbone?"

The older man clacked his teeth. "Oh, please. Just because I swing both ways doesn't mean I want everyone I meet. Anyway, the captain's straight as an arrow."

Kaine's heart was pounding. "You don't think _I _am? He's doing Erril Kaven."

Maldict gave him an odd look. "I can't really believe that," he said. "Kaven's his knight, isn't he? I just can't see the captain sleeping with anyone in his chain of command, much less another man." Kaine tittered at that. The older man scratched his head. "Uh, Kaine. Are you...okay?"

"No," Kaine said, and left. 

* * *

That night sleep would not come to Kaine, and he tossed and turned for two hours before getting out of bed with a curse. He got dressed and then went for a walk through the corridors. It was the middle of the night now, and a skeleton crew manned the base. In the relative quiet he could hear noise coming from the base cantina.

_He never goes there, _the officer thought. _It's the droid._

He went to the cantina, and when the door slid open a rush of warmth and noise fell over him. It was nearly full. There was the continuous murmur of voices, but there was less laughter than usual, and the room had a grim taint. He scanned the crowd with a sweep of his eyes, then went in. He passed Gammell and Fenn, who were arguing about the undead, passed Verdan and the blue Twi'lek chatting over a couple of beers (and noticed a red mark on Verdan's neck as he went by), and went to the counter.

"_Identified: Major Romulus Kaine,_" said the bartender. It was a Super battle droid from the Clone Wars that the engineers had reprogrammed, and it was one of the few entities on base that could successfully enforce the drink limit. It was useful for ending bar fights as well, and Kaine had heard rumours to the effect of rowdy personnel being thrown clear across the room, though he had never seen it do more than speak sternly to a Stormtrooper. "_You have three alcoholic drinks left on your limit, sir. What manner of beverage would you like?_"

The engineers had even spray-painted a tuxedo onto the droid, though the bowtie was real, strangely enough. Kaine glanced around, saw that the hard stuff seemed to be the most popular tonight, then looked back to the droid and said, "Absinthe. I'll have that." Tonight sobriety was overrated, and three glasses of _that _would have anyone on the floor.

The droid set about making it. "_You do not seem content, sir,_" it said, pouring the green liquid into an ornate glass. "_You seem edgy, preoccupied, and marked by stress._"

"That's one way of putting it."

"_If I might be permitted to cheer you, I have a party trick for such occasions._" The bartender pushed the glass across the counter, along with a glass of water for the louche.

Kaine picked up the glass of water. _Ah, whatever, _he thought, lifting it to pour it over the lump of sugar that was resting on the spoon. The water fell and the drink grew cloudy. "Go ahead."

The droid leaned forward, and its bowtie suddenly spun; with a little _WEWwww _noise, even. Kaine was surprised into a snort. "_I am told it is most droll,_" said the battle droid, sagely. The bowtie stopped, and slowly righted itself until it was horizontal again.

"Rrright," said Kaine, turning away to look over the room at large as he sipped his drink. It tasted of licorice and burned his throat, but he could bear that if it meant shaking his thoughts out of the track they had been running constantly for the last week.

Jan Kaven was there, with a foamy, empty glass at his elbow, talking to the blonde woman that had come off the ship with Admiral Makar. Jan was all right, in Kaine's view; it was just his brother that he hated. Captain Demarco was there as well, sitting with Doctor Maris. The last Kaine had heard she had been stationed at Daemmrung, happily studying and classifying the animal life there. He watched Demarco a moment, and for just a second the young captain resembled a younger, warmer Stavan. And then the resemblance faded, and there was nothing of Stavan there. Just the colours.

_I should just break that thing, _he thought, sipping his drink and forcing it down his throat swallow by swallow. _Break it. Leave Stavan high and dry. Or tell him to his face I'm not coming and see the look on his face. _There was something wintry about the commander that was all too familiar. Perhaps he was from Mobius as well. For that alone Kaine could have hated him, but he did not. He didn't feel anything at all for Stavan. The younger man was just a means to an end. To Kaine's escape.

He took another drink, and it burned his throat. Maldict was in the cantina as well, sitting with a trio of women. _Does he really...swing both ways? _Kaine wondered. It seemed so strange, so foreign to him that someone would do that, especially as comfortably and casually as Maldict. He had heard stories about the man, both good and bad. He was a cad and a rake and a tomcat, but he could be charming sometimes. Sometimes Kaine _didn't _want to knee him in the groin.

Tonight wasn't one of those times. _He saw me. _And the man was getting up and coming over, damn his hide. Kaine turned back to the bartender. "Do that droll thing again."

The bowtie began to spin, making its little noise. A presence drew up behind Kaine, and then Maldict appeared beside him. "Hey. One hard cider, for Captain Sonja von Hammerstein," he said.

"_You have hit your limit of alcoholic drinks, sir,_" said the droid, its bowtie still spinning.

"It's not for me, it's for her. Look." Maldict pointed; at the table, the Von Hammerstein woman was giving a thumbs-up and nodding.

"_Your honesty is confirmed. The captain signals her desire._" The bartender began to draw a pint for the officer. All the while the bowtie spun like a little propeller, making its _wewwwWEWwwwwWEWwwweww _noise.

"Did you put him up to this?" Maldict asked Kaine, jerking a thumb toward the droid. Kaine forced a smile and nodded. "Is that your only party trick?"

"_Unfortunately. One who does not have a tongue cannot master the art of tying cherry stems into knots with it, for what purposes that may serve._"

"That's enough drollery for now," Kaine said nervously. The sound of the spinning bowtie was starting to wear on him.

The bowtie stopped, and with it the noise. "_As you wish, Major Kaine,_" said the droid, handing the cider to Maldict, who stood not a quarter of a metre from Kaine.

Maldict considered the major, who was standing still as a statue with his glass gripped tight in both hands, then smiled and leaned closer, and when he whispered his voice was like fire in Kaine's ear: "Thirty eighty-seven."

And then he was gone, walking back to join the women.

For a long moment Kaine stood there, frozen like a rabbit that has just seen a wolf, and then he set his still-half-full glass down with a shaking hand and stumbled out of the cantina. 

* * *

Erril Kaven opened his eyes when Demarco came in to check on him. "Am I...disturbing anything?" the officer asked, shutting the door behind him.

"I was just meditating," Kaven replied. Demarco sat down at the bedside. "There's not much else to do, aside from sleep." He sat up a little, shifting himself with his left hand. "At the very least you people could put a fresh coat of paint on the wall, so I could watch it dry."

Demarco smiled at that. Kaven's initial observation had been correct; his face really _was _thinner than the knight had remembered. "You're getting better."

"I've been trying to heal myself up a bit. I'd ask you to sign my cast, except I won't have it for much longer." Exhausted with his efforts, Kaven sat back against the pillows. "Did Hrakis really shred me _that _badly? Every time I look, I find something new." Demarco nodded. His face not only looked thinner, but paler, too. Kaven had often dreamed of him, when he had been passing in and out of sleep, and always the young captain had looked stronger in those dreams, more resolute. But tired and pale though he looked now, Demarco still had that subtle suggestion of steel that Kaven had noticed when they had first met. That seemed the only thing tying dreams and reality together.

"What do you remember about Korriban?" Demarco asked.

Kaven told him how the Reborn had found him in the woods on Mernall, how he had fought Hrakis. "I remember you finding me," he said, smiling wanly. "But not what happened after that. The next thing I knew, I woke up here." He felt no need to tell Demarco the dreams he had had, even though the Jedi's accusing eyes still haunted him. _Not now, _he told himself. _Maybe some other time._

Demarco told him what had happened; his fight with the Reborn, finding Kaven, getting him to the ship, the flight, the blood transfusion, their return, the doctor's conclusion, the way he and Captain Rathbone and Jan had stayed with him.

"So we're blood brothers, then," Kaven said, after Demarco had finished. He felt a little glow inside at the story, and reached for the captain. "Come here."

Demarco held out a hand, then looked confused when Kaven grabbed his shoulder and pulled him forward instead. "What," he began, and stopped when the knight hugged him. He smelled of clean skin and soap. "...Huh?"

After a moment Kaven let go of him and sat back again. He still felt aglow, but also annoyed at how every movement seemed to tire him. _How long have I been bedridden? _"I'm glad you're here, is all," he said. Demarco still looked strange, halfway between confused and embarrassed. "Look, I hug my brothers. Don't you?"

"I haven't got any," the captain said.

"You do now."

Demarco's bemusement faded and he smiled, looking down and away, looking as though he were trying to hide some of the pleasure he felt. Kaven began to unbutton his shirt, and the captain's pleasure melted into confusion again. The pilot looked down; his chest was still covered with bandages and his stomach was purple all the way down to below his navel, but between them he could run his fingers up his sides and count his ribs. He sat back again, buttoning his shirt with some difficulty. The cast had hampered his right hand. "So who replaced my torso with a toast rack?"

"Now that you're awake, you can start taking proper meals again."

Kaven thought about it, and realized that he was ravenously hungry. He nodded and flipped back the blanket, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and began to get up, ignoring Demarco's sudden protests. "I'm hungry _now_. Let's go to the caf—" Suddenly his legs gave out beneath him; moving like a bolt of dark lightning, the captain caught him before he hit the floor, then hauled him up onto the bed again. "Er, never had that happen before," Kaven said, embarrassed. He looked down at his legs. _You useless buggers, _he thought.

"You've neither walked nor eaten a solid meal in a week," Demarco chided. "Your being still alive is miracle enough, without getting up and walking around already."

Kaven's cheeks felt warm. "Heh, sorry, mum."

He settled back down again and pulled the blanket up. Demarco spoke into his com. "Clatter, go to the cafeteria and get something for Erril Kaven. Nothing too exciting. And something with lots of iron." He listened to the squiggle in reply. "That sounds fine. Get the special."

Kaven wanted to ask what he was getting, but just settled back instead. Right now he would eat anything he was given. Demarco slipped the com back into his pocket. "He'll be quick about it," he said. Kaven nodded. Clatter was quick about everything; he hustled everywhere he went, and even though plenty of people must have told him to quiet down in his life, nobody had ever had to tell him to hurry up. He lived his life in permanent fast-forward.

As such, it wasn't twenty minutes before the Stormtrooper appeared, carrying a covered tray in his hands. "You're looking much better, sir," he said dutifully, setting the tray down beside Kaven's bed. "Um...is there anything else you wanted, Captain?" he asked, looking at Demarco questioningly. How Stormtroopers managed to emote while wearing those faceless helmets was beyond Kaven, but they seemed to have no trouble expressing themselves.

"No, that's enough, Clatter," Demarco replied, and the trooper hustled out. Kaven lifted the cover from the tray and discovered a stir-fry of poultry and greens sitting on a bed of white rice, with a covered mug of tea besides, and for a while he forgot about the world around him entirely.

As the pilot ate, Demarco remarked, "So I heard that Mustafar was an overwhelming success." A forkful of rice paused halfway to Kaven's mouth. "All those that went with you reported that they keenly felt your presence among them. Your presence gave them a certain taste for battle."

_That's a diplomatic way of putting it, _Kaven thought, lowering the fork. He had noticed before that his moods seemed to leak to others if they were strong enough. "Yes, I suppose they did." He looked at Demarco. The man he had hugged not half an hour before had been Aedin Demarco, but now he had put on the face of an officer.

"How dark do you feel now?" the captain asked.

How dark, indeed? Kaven didn't know. On Mustafar he had liked nothing better than using the Force to wreak havoc—at least until Bal had shown up, and then it had all felt sour and empty after that. He had felt cold on Mernall, and in the dreamtime he had felt lost and alone, and now...

"I don't feel like wrecking anything," he said at last, sitting back against the pillows, "but I don't feel right, either. I feel..." He waved a hand, vaguely. "...soiled. Like there's a layer of dirt under my skin. I don't know how to describe it, or how to get rid of it. I really don't know." He gazed at Demarco, sitting solemnly across from him. "Well, you're much wiser than I am, Demarco. How dark am I?"

The captain looked almost amused. "I wouldn't consider myself wise," he told the knight. "You're not the same Erril that came to the New Empire, it's so, but I think you could improve. At the very least, you're hardly registering as an evil overlord." He sounded as though he were trying to speak lightly, but there was something heavier beneath the words. It was worry.

That said all that Kaven needed to know. "Maybe you could talk to Captain Rathbone," he said, sighing. "I'm not very useful as a knight right now, and...perhaps it's best I don't go on any more missions. At least, until I'm...better."

Demarco nodded. "He said as much. That you need a rest, that is. Erril, _you _ought to talk to him."

"I don't want to." The words came out before Kaven could stop them, before he even realized he was saying them. A very strange look passed over Demarco's face like a shadow, but it was gone in the next moment. "M-maybe when I'm better," Kaven explained, "but not right now. I'm not feeling like myself, and..." _And I keep getting angry at him without even knowing why. _He had intended to say that, but the words stuck in his throat. He gave Demarco an entreating look. "I just need some time, all right...?"

"Yes." Demarco stood. "Yes, perhaps you do. You've been through a lot. Rest and...time to get better." He went to the door, but paused with his hand halfway to the keypad. His fingers curled, and then he suddenly turned back to Kaven. "Erril," he said, his voice quiet and urgent, "Captain Rathbone is a good man. I know he can seem cold sometimes, but there's nothing farther from the truth. Believe me. He took me into the New Empire when I didn't have anywhere else to go, ever since I..." He took a breath. "I care for him as much as I cared for my own family. Maybe you think he doesn't have time for you, or, or care for you, but he's our leader and he's trying to keep us all alive and well above everything else and you can't just get angry at him for doing his job."

There was more passion in that speech than Kaven had ever seen from him. "Demarco..."

Demarco straightened. "Maybe in time you'll understand what it means to lead," he said, and left. 

* * *

"Why so stressed?" asked Commander Stavan, with a smirk. He reached out and refilled Kaine's wine glass, though when he tried to take a sip the major found that his throat was too tight to swallow. Stavan laughed aloud. "Hah! You don't feel _bad _about what you're doing, do you?" Then he leaned forward, tapping a finger on the table. "What you're doing is escaping the New Empire," he said, and for the first time Kaine noticed that he had a Mobian accent. "You're escaping Rathbone. He's driving you crazy."

"I, I don't think I can do this," Kaine mumbled.

Stavan ignored him. "You're jealous of that knight, aren't you? Well, give me the card and you won't have to worry about that anymore. You can run off and go hide under a rock, if it helps your conscience any." His glasses flashed in the light as he leaned forward. "Or do you even have one?"

Kaine looked away. There were the well-dressed gentlemen at the next table, and the guy reading the newspaper, and everyone else at the restaurant, but outside the windows it was Canaida, not Entralla. "I'll be killing everyone," he said. And then he turned back to the younger man. "No, Stavan. I won't give it to you."

The commander stared at him with eyes as cold and blue as an arctic sea. With his black hair and white face, Stavan almost looked like a young Reaper. In fact, he looked too pale to be alive. "You've come too far," he growled. "What will you do, Kaine? Give the card back and tell Rathbone you had a change of heart, that you're sorry and that you'll never do it again? And what will you tell him in interrogation after that? Your name, rank, and serial number? And what will you do when he keeps you close, so _close, _because he can't trust you anymore?"

"I...I..."

"You can burn the card," a deep voice said. Kaine turned his head, and saw that the man reading the newspaper had lowered it. It was Maldict.

"B-burn it?" the major squeaked.

Maldict rose and came over to the table. "Yeah. Burn it. Melt it down. Let Snake-Eyes think he made one less than he thought he did. That's only reasonable. Twenty hours at a computer can make any man loopy."

Stavan clacked his teeth. "That _won't _work," he said. "Sooner or later you'll tell Rathbone everything. Just give me the card, let the axe fall, and go your merry way." He gave Kaine a death's-head grin. "You'll be rid of both Rathbone _and _Kaven that way. And Demarco as well."

Maldict shook his head. "Don't listen to him. You don't really want to kill Rathbone...or anybody, for that matter."

"You'll be an imperial hero if you do, though," said Stavan, and when Maldict glared at him, he held up his hands and shrugged. "I'm just saying."

"I don't want to kill anyone," Kaine murmured. But in his darkest of hearts he did want to hurt the captain, oh yes. He wanted to hurt him back for all the pain he had caused him, all the frustration and doubt and sleepless nights. "I just want this to end. I wish I had never met Stavan." He could not say it or think it enough times, that he had never met the commander or taken his poisonous offer.

At a movement he looked over, and saw Stavan leaning forward. He looked half a corpse. "Do as I say," he said, "and it will end. If you want it to end, _give me that card._" He held out his hand.

"Hold on," said Maldict. "Kaine, I'm your way out of this. I can not only save you, I can make you forget about the captain."

Kaine was holding the card in both hands, and he was shaking from head to toe. "Thirty-eighty-seven," he whispered.

Maldict smiled. "That's right," he said. Kaine could feel the heat coming off of him. He was the life to Stavan's death, but he scared Kaine in a way that the commander never had, scared and fascinated him. "This way, you can go on living for quite some time. And you won't be killing anyone."

Kaine thought about it. Finally he got to his feet and turned to them, backing away, his hands still clutching the card in a white-knuckled grip. "I'm not like that, both of you." Stavan rose, glaring at him, and Maldict put a hand on his hip, looking disappointed. The major turned and slunk out of the restaurant, leaving them both behind. 

* * *

When awareness returned to him, he found himself lying in a black void. _Am I...dead? _he wondered. He opened his eyes and closed them again, but they made no difference either way.

_Is this the afterlife? _Commander Dias asked himself. He was lying on his back, and everything was dark and quiet. _Do I just lie here until my mind disintegrates?_ It was a horrible thought; no next life, no true void, just nothingness until his mind turned to jelly. He twitched his hand, and it seemed solid enough; he felt fabric beneath his fingers, some smooth plasticky stuff. _I'm...alive?_ He had to be, because corpses didn't move. The last thing he remembered was Lieutenant Fay sliding the needle into his arm, and then lying back on his cot and watching the ceiling fade into darkness. He was supposed to be dead. But he was alive.

Suddenly there was a knocking, and then a sliding sound and a feeling of motion, and the world split into brightness above him, as if someone were unzipping the darkness. He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing, and after a while he opened them by degrees. The first thing he saw was Lieutenant Fay's face, and a tiled ceiling behind her head.

She took his shoulders and hauled him into a sitting position, and for the first time Dias noticed that he was in a body bag. Shocked into silence, he looked to the lieutenant for an explanation, but she only shook her head. "Later," she said. "We need to get you out of here now." She helped him out of the drawer he had been put in, and he stood in the bag, looking around numbly at the morgue. The pathologist was lying on his face on the floor, and he wasn't moving. "Alive, but unconscious," Fay told him, and pushed a bundle of cloth into his arms. It was only then that he realized that the bag was all he was wearing. "Now, get dressed." She turned her back to him and went to the door.

Slowly, clumsily (_Like a zombie, _he thought grimly), he put on the clothing she had given him. It was an ISB officer's uniform; a little baggy in the stomach, but it fit well enough otherwise. When he slipped the black trousers on, he noticed a tag on his toe, and lifted his foot to pull it off. It had his name and age on it, as well as cause of death. _Heart failure, _he read, and tossed it away. He pulled on a pair of boots, still not saying anything. There was something horrible about this whole situation, but he hadn't found the words to express himself properly yet. He looked at the wall of drawers, like some morbid filing cabinet, and bit down the urge to scream.

Fay glanced over her shoulder. He started to go to her, but his feet tangled with each other and he went down. There was a clack of boot heels on tiled floor, and then she pulled him to his feet with surprising strength. "You'll be clumsy for a few more hours, so try to be careful. Now, take my arm...we're leaving." She offered her left arm, and he took it. "If we run into anyone, you're ill and I'm taking you to the infirmary." He nodded. He wouldn't have to _pretend _to be ill; he already felt like he was going to be sick.

Carefully, they went out into the hall. There was no one there. At Dias' side Fay was tense, and she was listening carefully. There was the distant drip of water on stone, but nothing else. There was no grace to the commander's walk, and he felt like a puppet on strings as they walked down the hall.

The corridor was not like in any other imperial base, and it was lined with stone blocks, like a castle's walls. From what little Dias had seen of the place, it had looked more like a bastion of some kind, an old castle or monastery that the ISB had occupied for a base of operations, than a base built by the Empire.

At last they came to a stop, and Dias leaned gratefully against the wall while Fay pushed and prodded at the blocks. "Am I...a zombie?" he asked. His voice had a rusty, metallic edge to it.

"No," she replied, groping at the corners of a stone. "They don't talk."

For some reason that answer struck him as strangely horrifying, and he shut his mouth with a clack.

Her questing fingers found something, and with a click and a scrape of stone on stone, part of the wall swung outward to reveal a low earthen tunnel. A breath of air rushed out, smelling of must and damp earth. "You go first," she said. "This is the safest way out."

He looked in the hole, and saw nothing but blackness. "Where does it go?" he rasped.

"Outside."

He was too tired and horrified and confused to argue. He climbed into the tunnel, and when Fay shut the passage behind them, the darkness became absolute. He crawled on his hands and knees, for there wasn't enough room to walk even stooped over, and the lieutenant crawled behind him. He felt dirt under his palms, and hairy roots, and every now and then something with many little legs crawled over his fingers, but they began to move upward steadily, and a salty breeze touched his face. After what seemed like half an eternity he saw a light, and moved eagerly toward it. Bit by bit his clumsiness was falling away, and by the time they reached the end of the tunnel, he managed to climb out and down a short path of boulders without slipping. Feeling light-headed at all these exertions, he looked around. The tunnel had taken them to a rocky outcropping bounded on one side by a sheer cliff, and on the other by a body of water, though there was a thick fog and he couldn't see how far the water extended. A rowboat bobbed nearby, tied to a rock with a length of thick rope. There was a wind blowing, and just breathing in the fresh air made him feel better, more alive. He looked up, and looming overhead was a castle of dark stone. The sky beyond it was dark with thunderheads. "Where are we?" he asked, and his voice was stronger.

"The farthest reaches of Malador," Fay told him, hopping down from the rocks. Her white tunic was smudged with dirt, and her blonde hair had been pulled out of place by the roots in the tunnel. "The ISB occupied an old castle on this island for their base. We're not far from the mainland." She motioned toward the rowboat, and he got in with all the wariness of a man not accustomed to water-going craft of any kind, and sat down, feeling the rocking beneath him. The lieutenant climbed in after him, and untied the rope. "We're lucky for this fog," she said, taking the oars. They began to move out into the whiteness.

"Will you tell me what's going on now?" he asked, in a low voice. Noise travelled well over water.

She nodded. "I work for neo-imperial intelligence," she told him. "When you were taken on Tel Sharis, I made plans to get you out of the ISB's hands before you gave up anything crucial. I am acting on my own volition. What I gave you in the cell stopped your heart for a while, long enough to make them think you had died of heart failure and take you out of your cell. You should be well enough by the time we reach the mainland. You can rest if you want. It will be two hours before we get there." She smiled. "Dark gods willing, you can tell your wife and daughters that you love them yourself."

Dias lay back on the boat and let one hand trail in the water. Then he thought of sharks and other biting things, and pulled it back out again. "Thank you," he said, and closed his eyes. 

* * *

The two of them sat in Captain Rathbone's office. It wasn't quite midnight yet, but the captain was planning on leaving within the hour. "I shall be going to Reliquus," he told Demarco. "I expect to be gone for two days."

"You're the last person I had expected to be visiting oracles," his second in command replied.

_Yes, I know._ But he found her advice comforting, and she saw things in the Force that he did not, that he could not. "The _Chiron _will be arriving sometime in the morning with a load of metal and whatnot to begin repairs to the hulls of Admiral Makar's ships," Captain Rathbone said. "Oh, yes, and Major Kaine's leave is tomorrow, so M-43 will be gone for several hours."

"Seems to me like he needs the break," said Demarco. "He looks like hell."

"Mmhm." In fact the older man had noticed that Kaine seemed on the verge of a breakdown, and had decided to let him go two days early. "The latest reports from Intelligence have it that Lieutenant Aeron has gone missing from Infel, though none of Fenn's little birds know whether he's still alive or not. In addition, we have the date of Ordo Scrugg's party, and a bit of bad news: He's hired imperial soldiers to act as security for the affair, though they've agreed to grant immunity to the rebel ambassadors on the planet. I doubt the same courtesy will extend to us, though if we're careful we could have a few of our own attend, and appeal to him for his cooperation." At the very least Scrugg was an able businessman, and the New Empire was in dire need of some extra resources.

"I've had our agents gathering information on any other potential allies," Demarco told him, sitting back in his chair. It was late, and he looked tired. Captain Rathbone suspected that his own bad habits were beginning to rub off on his second, and resolved to set more reasonable hours for himself in the future, to encourage the young man to do the same. "Annalys hasn't made any attempts to join with the New Republic, but they don't seem impressed with the Empire, either. Alacraine is open for trade, but..." Demarco's expression told the captain what he thought of _that _planet. "Nestaria is open to cooperation, but given their culture they probably won't be impressed if the negotiation party we send is male or mostly male." The young man shook his head. "I was thinking to send Captain Sonja von Hammerstein along with Lieutenant Harker and his squad."

Captain Rathbone smiled. "Yes, that would make a good impression," he agreed. Then he stood up. "It's getting late, Aedin. Both of us need our rest."

Demarco nodded and rose from his chair. "Good night, Captain," he said, going to the door.

Captain Rathbone went to the window. It was a few minutes after Demarco had left that there was a hesitant knock at the door. "Come in," he said, and when he turned around he saw that it was Major Kaine.

Demarco had said that Kaine looked like hell, and he did. Normally the major was immaculate, almost vainly so, but now he looked as though he hadn't been sleeping or eating properly. His face was pallid, and the way he held himself as of late was not like Kaine at all. As Captain Rathbone's eyes fell on him the younger man seemed to scrunch up, as if he were uncomfortable at the scrutiny. "Captain," he said, in a soft voice. "I heard you were leaving tonight." Then he straightened. "You gave me my leave early."

"I thought you could use a rest."

"Yeah," Kaine answered. He stood awkwardly for a moment, then took a timid step closer. "So you _are _leaving. I, er, I came to say goodbye."

Captain Rathbone had always gotten the impression that Kaine did not like him, so he was surprised by this sudden little nicety. "Oh. Well, that's kind of you," he said. Kaine came closer, looking as though he had to force himself every step of the way. _There's something wrong here, _a part of the captain's mind pointed out.

By now they were within arm's reach of each other. Looking as if he were about to touch a giant spider, Kaine reached out and put his hands on the captain's shoulders. His arms were held out stiffly before him as if he were pushing the other man away, and one corner of his mouth twitched as he looked up at him, not at his eyes but at his lips. "Ah, Kaine...?" Captain Rathbone prompted. He had begun to get an inkling of what was going on.

Kaine didn't reply, but just stood there frozen. His fingers were gripping the captain's shoulders almost painfully, and his brown eyes were wide open. Gradually his arms began to bend.

"Kaine," the older man said, as kindly as he could, "I'm not...that...way."

A heartbeat passed, and then Kaine's face hardened and he let his hands drop. "I never said you were," he said curtly, stepping back. "I never said _anything._"

And then he turned and left, leaving Captain Rathbone to stand there awkwardly, wondering what in the hell just happened. 

* * *

_I couldn't say it, _Kaine thought, walking down the hall. When he had learned that his leave was coming two days early, he had taken the card out of his pocket with the intention of snapping it in half, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. It had been almost suicidal to go to Captain Rathbone to tell him...

To tell him that he...

_(and then he punched me so hard I fell off the bench I remember the taste of blood in my mouth)_

To tell him...

_I'll be killing everyone, _he had said in that awful dream, and the thought had been eating at him all day. There was no way out; if he gave the card to Stavan, he would be destroying the New Empire. If he gave the card to Rathbone, he would be destroying himself. If he broke it...well...some secrets festered, and he would end up telling someone eventually, just to get the weight of it off his shoulders, and then they would all know what he had planned. And even if he didn't break, then Rathbone would drive him crazy.

He had wanted to give the card to the captain, but being so close to the man had petrified him, and then Rathbone had opened his big mouth and broken all of Kaine's resolve...what little he had managed to gather, anyway.

He had been wandering in a daze until now, and when he came back to himself he found that he hadn't gone back to his own room at all. He was a few halls off the mark, and when he read the room numbers, his stomach twisted into a knot. Thirty eighty-three, thirty eighty-five...

...Thirty eighty-seven.

_I can make you forget about the captain, _Maldict had said.

_Are those the only scars?_

A cad's smile. _Want me to show you the rest?_

_I was just curious, you bastard, _Kaine thought. He was standing in front of the door now, staring at the numbers, terrified that the door would open. _I was just trying to get along._

_It's just a bit of harmless flirting._

Flirting. Maldict had been _flirting _with him. _Did you ever get punched? To you it's harmless flirting, but how do you know did you ever get punched or do you just somehow know who you can want, are you lucky enough to know that?_

_I'm not that way, _Captain Rathbone had said. Kaine could have slapped him for that, for assuming, for believing, for knowing. _I can make you forget about the captain, _Maldict had said, and now Kaine thought: _Can you? Can you really do that? Maybe you can make me forget about the captain, but can you make me forget about Kaven, and _make him forget about the bloody taste in his mouth the feel of the dirt under his palm as he sat with one leg still up on the bench, watching his former best friend walk away _the rotten deal I made with Stavan, can you help me break it, because I can't have that on my conscience and I need to do something tonight._

He stood a moment, biting his lip, and then reached out to knock. _I need to forget everything._

But his knuckles halted a few centimetres from the door. _I can't, _he thought. What would he say? He wasn't any good at this sort of thing, he had never had anything to do with it before, and what if Maldict refused? That was almost worse than if he accepted and let him in.

He withdrew his trembling hand. _I can't, _he thought. He turned away, and started off down the hallway again. 

* * *

On Reliquus it was late summer, and the air hung still and heavy with the perfume scent of flowers. It was early evening, but still Captain Rathbone felt an uncomfortable heat fall over him as he disembarked from the shuttle. Canaidan springtime would not be for a couple of months yet, and he had never felt comfortable in hot weather besides.

A couple of girls took his weapons, and a third led him to Lady Delphian's chambers. It was very warm inside, and the oracle was sitting at her desk reading a book from one of the many shelves around when the doors opened and they came in. "Lee Rathbone," she said, shutting the book. "I was expecting you."

"Of course you were," he replied. At a gesture from her he went to the desk and sat down across from her.

"So this concerns your knight again, does it?" the woman asked. She looked the same, a stately old lady in white robes, with a sheer scarf over her grey hair, but it had felt like years since he had last visited.

"Yes." He told her about all the things that had happened. "Have I gone too far?" he asked. "Have I underestimated the dark side...or overestimated Erril? Have I doomed the whole faction?" He had gambled, and perhaps he had gambled too much. Perhaps he had been too alight with the victory at Shanast and the destruction of the Reborn to know when to stop.

The sibyl looked at him sideways. "Have you no visions of your own, Captain?"

He frowned. "One night I dreamed of a cemetery, but I...no. It was just a dream. No, my lady, there are no visions for me, only bad memories." He leaned forward, his fingers gripping the armrests of the chair. "But _you _have visions. Have you seen anything since we last spoke?"

She sat back. "My girls and I have had many visions as of late. Every day they're full of new stories, and a handful are recurring. Tell me, what does Captain Demarco think of your knight?"

Demarco liked Kaven quite well, the captain recalled, and told her so. She considered a moment, and then got up. Despite the warmth of the night, there was a fire going in the fireplace, and her silhouette was near black as she walked in front of it. He watched her. "I've _had _visions," she said, "and a few, perhaps, were tangled around the New Empire. It is difficult to say...they were not clear. They were images jumbled together, not clear at all. But before I tell you them, I want you to know that visions can be not only the future, but also the past and present, and multiple futures as well."

"I understand."

After a few moments she said, "I have seen a wolf and a dragon fighting in the snow. On a white field I saw three red roses growing. I have seen the pyre of a knight whose mourners were all enemies. I saw a young woman held captive in a fortress of snow and ice, while a scarred man released a flock of doves over a battlefield. I saw a wedding and a coronation...but I also saw many men and women at a long table with glasses in their hands, while skeletons in black robes played a funeral dirge. I saw a woman walking through the underworld, while the shade of a man followed her. I saw a knight kneeling before his queen. And the most curious thing of all...I saw the dead rise."

Captain Rathbone had no idea how to begin making heads or tails of these visions, if visions they were and not just strange dreams. "The dead rise?" He remembered months ago, when Snake-Eyes had gotten a transmission from Lugosi Gammell regarding parasite zombies wandering about on Tartaros, and a black pit opened in the bottom of his stomach. _Oh, bloody hell. Let's hope they stay there._

"I saw Captain Demarco as well," she told him. "He wore an iron crown, and his knights wore red cloaks."

_Demarco ruling, _the captain thought. _As emperor? Or was he the faction leader? But that means that I..._

He remembered the cemetery.

_I..._

"This is a great deal to take in all at once," she said, noticing his sudden silence. "Spend the night, Captain, and we shall speak again tomorrow." The oracle clapped her hands, and two young women came to escort him away to his own room.

He followed the girls away down a long marble hallway. The warmth of the night had vanished for him, replaced with a bone-deep chill. _Am I...going to die? _he wondered.


	20. Chapter 19: Counting Shadows

**Author's Note: **As a warning, this chapter contains some M/M elements.

**Chapter 19:**

**Counting Shadows**

_Canaida. A small, snowy planet in the far Unknown Regions. Currently the seat of the New Empire._

_The next morning._

"How is he?" Major Kaine asked, looking down at the sleeping Kaven.

"He's doing remarkably well," said the doctor. "He's begun bacta treatments, and he's started walking around a little. He complains a lot, which I take as a good sign." He bustled about, checking on the equipment, making sure Kaven's bandages were tied securely. "What a lucky young man." Shaking his head, he took his clipboard and left.

_You are lucky, _Kaine thought coldly. Kaven was medicated and fast asleep, and he had not so much as stirred an eyelid at their voices.

He sat there for a while, watching the knight, and then stood up, reaching into his pocket to touch the coordinate card. He had called Stavan and told him their meeting time, and the silly little card felt like it weighed a thousand kilos. He felt the weight of something else as well, and drew it out. Staring down at it, he drew his com. "Is the shuttle prepared?" he asked.

"_Yes, Major Kaine. We're ready to go anytime,_" the pilot answered.

"Good." He turned his com off and put it back. His gaze moving to Kaven, he drew his blaster and clipped the experimental silencer onto it. _Let's see how well this works, _he thought. He raised it, pointing it at the young man. _You can say goodbye to your precious knight, Rathbone, in three, two, one..._

He didn't fire right away, but just watched the knight instead. Kaven slept peacefully, not knowing that he was never going to wake up. Kaine's finger tightened on the trigger—

—and the door slid open and a Stormtrooper walked in. "Major. I was just coming to—" Kaine whirled on him, blaster in hand, and the trooper went for his rifle, cursing. The officer fired noiselessly, and the trooper hit the wall and sank to the floor. With a few quick steps Kaine crossed the room and locked the door, then turned back to Kaven.

"You _are _lucky," he said. "Ha. But not lucky enough. Ha. Ha." The silencer had done its job, but the noise the trooper had made might be heard, and that meant Kaine would be lucky if he got as far as the hangar. But he had never been very lucky. He giggled nervously. "Well, Kaven, it looks like we're both screwed, so I might as well take you out with me." He went to the knight, drawing his holoprojector. "But why don't we see what the captain has to say about this, hmm?"

When the little image of Captain Rathbone formed, he was puzzled by the unexpected transmission. "_Kaine, what...oh._" This last came out when he saw that Kaven was there as well, and when he saw the blaster in Kaine's hand. He looked at the major with mounting horror.

"Hello, Captain," said Kaine. "How are you?"

"_I'm...Kaine, what are you doing? Put that blaster away._" Beneath the tones of command there was real fright; it was the first time Kaine had ever heard such a thing from the captain, and he did not enjoy it. He thought he would, but he didn't.

"Make me," said Kaine. "Captain."

Captain Rathbone was silent a long moment, and then he asked, "_Why are you doing this?_"

Kaine glanced at Kaven. "Good-looking kid," he said. "Well, normally, anyway. I guess crowning him wasn't all you had in mind."

The captain's face darkened. "_That's not how it is, and you know that very well._"

"Oh, really?" The younger man looked back to the captain, his face hardening. "What _am _I supposed to think, then, when he's pining away for you day and night? Or maybe you prefer Demarco instead? Oh, that would break Kaven's heart to hear _that._"

"_Kaine, stop it. Whatever problem you have with me, you can leave Kaven out of it, and Demarco as well."_

"No, Captain. I can't. Because Kaven _is _at the centre of it, and I think _you _know that very well." Kaine gestured with the blaster. "He comes to the faction, and you make him a knight. That's fine, he's bloody Force-sensitive and all. But then you're planning on making him your emperor, when he's been here less time than any of us, when there's no reason for him to _ever _lead us, and we're supposed to follow him? It makes one wonder why you're giving him such honours, Rathbone."

Captain Rathbone looked horrified. _"No, that's not...I don't..." _He shook his head, gathered himself, and said, _"Yes, I was planning on crowning him...if he would make a good ruler, and if I had the consent of the faction. But this...Kaine, I have my faults, but I'm not that kind of man."_

Kaine's stomach was in a knot. "And if you didn't have the faction's consent?"

"_Then...he would never become emperor. Only a knight._" The captain's hands were shaking. _"Please, Kaine. Don't do this."_

"I was going to hand you all over to the Empire," Kaine said softly. At his side Kaven still slept on. "For my own freedom, Captain, and for the chance to get away from you. You don't know what you do to me." When Rathbone was there, Kaine could not help but see him, and when he spoke, he could not help but hear him, and he hated him for that.

"_Let him live," _said the older man, _"and you shall have your freedom. I promise that, Kaine. Just don't kill him."_

"You must care for him," Kaine replied, "if you're begging me not to hurt him." The captain didn't reply. "I'll think about that. But...call me sir, for once. I'm the major and you're the captain. I _outrank _you, so call me sir."

He had hoped to anger Rathbone with that, but the man just nodded and said, _"As you wish, sir."_

"And kneel." _Come on, get angry. Let me know that there's _something _under all that frost._ _Let me know that you _feel _something. _But the captain's face was expressionless. "And say please again, that sounded nice the first time." Now Kaine was the one getting angry, but it was at himself more than anything. His jaw clenched as he waited for the captain's answer.

To his horror the captain _did _kneel. _"Please," _he said. _"Don't kill him. Wait for me. We can talk about this."_

"Get up," Kaine snapped. He had thought he might take some pleasure from the captain's subservience, but all it did was leave a bad taste in his mouth. "Get _up, _you old—we can't talk about this! After all this, there's no way I'm going to survive the day!" He gestured at Kaven, again with his blaster. "So what was he to you? Answer me, and tell me the truth, or I _will _shoot him right in front of you."

"_He was my knight,_" the captain answered, getting to his feet, "_and my hope for this faction. I care for him as I would for a friend, and I had hoped that I might call him my emperor someday._"

_He's telling the truth, _Kaine realized, and that realization cut through him. He stared at the captain, and when he turned suddenly to Kaven, raising his blaster, Rathbone lifted his hand, screaming, "_KAINE, NO!_"

Some instinct made Kaine drop the holoprojector then, and the little ghost of the captain fizzled out when it hit the floor. A heartbeat passed, and then Kaine's finger relaxed on the trigger. "Damn me," he hissed, dropping the blaster on the bed. Then he turned and ran out, ran down the corridor as fast as he could, and by some miracle he made it to the hangar unscathed, his heart pounding.

"Oh, Major," said the pilot of the shuttle he was to board. "I was wondering when you—"

Kaine struck him with his shoulder as he went by, and the pilot sat down abruptly. The officer ran up the ramp, shut it, then leapt into the cockpit. Through the viewport he saw the pilot yelling something at him. He started the ship forward, and the pilot ran for it, diving out of the way. Metre by metre the grey walls of the hangar were replaced with the dazzling white snow and clear blue skies of Canaida. _If I can be lucky just once in my life, _he thought...

...and he was. He cleared the hangar, rose into the sky, and got away.

When he had gone into hyperspace, he drew the coordinate card from his pocket and looked at it for a long while. Then he took it in both hands and snapped it in two. "Never, Stavan," he whispered. His voice sounded hoarse, like he had been swallowing broken glass. "Never."

* * *

When he finally awoke, Kaven looked around muzzily and saw that there were a lot of people in his room. "What?" he asked, raising himself on his elbows. There was a doctor there, and Jan and Demarco, and Lieutenant Gammell, who was talking a mile a minute, half with his hands, and when Jan saw that his brother was awake, he came over in a rush and threw his arms around him. "What happened?" Kaven asked, after he had freed himself.

"Kaine tried to shoot you!" Jan and Gammell said at the same time.

The world came to a screeching halt. "_What?_" Now Kaven sat up fully. "Where's Kaine now?"

"No one knows," Demarco said, his expression grim. To Gammell he murmured, "I want extra guards posted here, and the only ones allowed in otherwise will be Captain Rathbone, myself, and Jan Kaven." The intelligence officer nodded.

"Erril, he was going to _kill _you," Jan told him. His already-wide green eyes were wider than usual.

This all had to be some kind of dream, Kaven thought. Nothing about it seemed real. "Why would Kaine want to kill me?" he asked. Nobody answered, and Gammell looked away, biting his lip. Kaven glanced down and saw a cleaning droid cleaning up a bit of blood on the floor by the wall. _So it really did happen, _he thought, and fell back on his pillows in a faint.

* * *

When he awoke later on, he was alone in the room. _Did he die? _the knight wondered, sitting up a little, thinking of the person whose blood was on the floor. Whose was it? He looked up hurriedly as the door slid open, and to his surprise Captain Rathbone came hurrying in; he was white as a sheet except for two spots of colour that blazed high in his cheeks, and he was visibly angry. When he saw Kaven looking at him in amazement and intimidation, he said, "Oh, thank the gods."

"He hadn't a scratch on him," a low, pleasant voice said, and Captain Rathbone turned to face Demarco, who had followed him in. They put their heads together and whispered some, and Kaven cleared his throat. They looked at him.

"What happened to the one guy?" the knight asked. "I'm guessing he shot Kaine, or something?"

"Kaine took a shuttle and left," Demarco replied. "We're searching for him now. We think he's...deserted." He looked ill at ease.

Captain Rathbone was looking at the pilot strangely, and Kaven shrank back under the covers, away from his stare. _It, it's not my fault, _he thought, looking away. _I was sleeping, I didn't do anything._

"Demarco," said the captain. "Leave us. It's time I spoke to my knight."

To Kaven's horror Demarco nodded shortly and left, without a single protest. _Demarco, you're throwing me to the wolves! _the pilot wanted to yell after him. _I thought you liked me!_ And then the door slid shut behind the younger captain, and Kaven was left alone with the older one.

"He had mercy after all," Captain Rathbone said, after a long silence. He had not taken his eyes from the knight. Kaven nodded, not meeting his gaze. "So, you didn't wake up at all during the incident?"

"...No, sir."

Captain Rathbone's jaw clenched. "Good," he growled. "I'm glad for that, at least."

Now Kaven looked up at him, wondering why he was so angry. "What did I do?"

"Apart from disobeying my orders to return to Canaida following the Mustafar raid, wandering off to Korriban, and nearly getting yourself torn to shreds? Nothing, Kaven. Nothing at all. Although I must say, you ought to be glad for Demarco."

Kaven's lips thinned. "I am," he said, coldly. _He was the only one that went to Korriban for me. He saved me, not you._

"Why did you run off? Why did you feel it so necessary to go with those Dark Jedi?"

"The one they work for wants to be a Sith, and he's been wanting me to be one, too."

Captain Rathbone's breath caught. "Was it a good offer?"

"It was a rotten one, and I told him so, and he tore me to bits." Kaven sat up straight, glaring up at the older man all the while. "You know what, Captain? I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm so useless right now, I'm sorry that I can't go on any more missions at the moment, and I'm _so very sorry _that I obeyed Demarco's orders and went to Mernall to help you!"

"Erril, watch your temper—"

"_I'm sorry, MASTER!_" Kaven exploded. "After all, it just wouldn't be _convenient _if I went to the dark side, now would it!"

"Erril, that's enough," the captain said, severely. "This is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" At that Kaven threw back the blankets and got out of bed, stomping toward the captain in his bare feet, stronger in his fury than the other times he had walked around the room. "_Ridiculous? _No. Ridiculous is you trying to deny that you've been using me like a—a chess piece to be moved about at your leisure!" Captain Rathbone had begun to back up by now, and Kaven stabbed a finger at his chest, punctuating each word with a poke. "_Can _you deny that, Captain? No, you can't! Ever since I arrived I've been nothing but a bonus to you! You call me your knight, and the _first _of your knights, but I might as well be a droid!"

"Erril—" the captain began.

But Kaven interrupted him. "And you _hate _droids! They give you the creeps, don't they? What, so do _I _give you the creeps now? Do you think I've gone to the dark side, do you think I'm going to up and start strangling people like Darth Vader did?" The captain's back hit the wall, and the momentary look of alarm on his face only aggravated Kaven further. "You can't even bring yourself to touch me, can you? Not even a pat on the back, not even a handshake, just a 'Well done, Erril, now here's your next mission'? Nice to know I disgust you that much, that you have to act like I was _Palpatine_—"

"_Shut up!_" Captain Rathbone snapped. It was the first time Kaven had heard the man raise his voice in anger, and it shocked him into silence. "Just...Erril, bloody _hell._ I _do _care for you, it's just..." He trailed off.

"No," Kaven murmured. The world seemed to be moving. He swayed and took a step back. "I don't think you... ..."

He felt the captain catch him before he fell, and then he lifted him and carried him over to the bed, where he sat him down. "Are you all right?" he asked. He was very strong.

Kaven's burst of angry energy had gone, leaving nothing but regrets. "Yeah," he murmured. "Just tired."

The captain's grey eyes studied him. "Did you mean what you said?" he asked. "Do I seem so cold to you?"

"To me...?" When they had first met Kaven had felt that he couldn't lie to the captain, and he did not now. "Yes."

The captain's brow furrowed. After a long silence he asked, "Erril, had you...spoken to Major Kaine at all since coming here?" When Kaven nodded, he looked all the more concerned. "What did he say to you?"

The pilot thought back to his conversation with the officer that one night, and told Rathbone what he remembered of it. "I knew he didn't like me much, but...why would he try to kill me?"

The older man looked uncomfortable. "I...can hardly say. Ah, I have to ask...why is it that you find me, my attention...why is my approval so important to you?" Captain Rathbone gave him a chary look. "You're not...?"

There had been plenty of awkward moments in Kaven's life, but few of them had ever topped this one. "No," he said, turning crimson. "I'm not, uh, interested in guys." He didn't know what to say after that, so he kept silent, his cheeks burning.

"What is it, then?" Rathbone looked puzzled. "Are you lonely at this base? Or have _I _done something?"

"No, I'm all right, it's just..." _How can I tell him? Do I even know? _"...I wanted to be friends, but you were always distant." Not quite it, but close enough. "I know, it's dumb, you're my commander, but..." Kaven shrugged.

Captain Rathbone seemed to get it more than he did. "I think I understand," he told his knight. "It wasn't appropriate to be friends so quickly after your coming...but I think enough time has passed, if you're still willing."

Kaven smiled. It felt like he hadn't done that for years. "Yeah," he said. "I'm still willing."

* * *

Stavan was in his quarters getting ready when Diehl knocked. The door slid open, and the major went in to where Stavan was putting on his holster. Beneath the visor of his cap the commander wore a preoccupied look, and he was frowning. "The shuttle's prepared," Diehl told him. _So this is it. We'll pick Kaine up, get the card, and then go our separate ways._ He hadn't expected the thought to bother him as much as it did, though Stavan would surely be glad to get the ISB out of his hair.

He watched the younger man go to the dresser, where he picked something up and slipped it onto his finger. He saw what it was in the second before Stavan pulled his gloves on over it. A ring, a plain gold band. "You're married?" Diehl asked, with some surprise.

Stavan glanced at him. "No," he said.

* * *

There was a landing pad on a platform on the upper reaches of the Black Tower, and the winds there were stronger than Stavan had expected. A gust pulled at his tunic as he went to the edge of the bridge between the tower and the platform. Lucinia lay spread out beneath him, a barren wasteland dotted with steaming vents and deep canyons. For all the view he had, he could not see a single tree or bit of greenery. _This is not a good place, _he thought, not for the first time. There was something unsavoury about Lucinia, something in the very air and water of the place. Stavan had been to more than one hellish planet, but he had never before gotten the impression that the land itself hated him. But here...

"For god's sake," said a voice. "We've been waiting here for five hours. When is your friend going to show up?" Stavan turned to see that Diehl had emerged from the arched doorway leading into the tower, his white tunic pale against the tower's black rock.

Stavan shook his head. "It's far past time."

"That's for damn sure," Diehl said. Then he gave Stavan the look of vague discomfort that always seemed to herald a kinder moment from him. "You've been pacing out there the last three hours. Come in and sit down, or something." Then he turned and went back inside, not waiting for Stavan's reply.

Despite himself, the commander smiled. With another glance into the stormy skies of Lucinia, he followed Diehl into the tower.

They went down a flight of steps and emerged in a large, circular chamber where Diehl and his troopers had been waiting for the last while, along with half a dozen of Stavan's own men. "He hasn't shown up yet?" Omar asked. "Do you think he's left us hanging, sir?"

"We'll give it another two hours," Stavan said. After that it would be dark, and they would return to their ship for the night. He took a seat on a stone bench next to Diehl.

"Nice place," the ISB officer remarked sarcastically, after a while. "I've had my men doing a bit of exploring while we've been stuck waiting."

"And?" Stavan asked, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"It's a dump," Diehl said flatly. "There's a big spiral staircase going down the walls between the sixth floor and the second, but you can't get down that way unless you can jump three metres at a stretch. Good thing we brought hook-shots and climbing gear, otherwise we'd have to call the shuttle to get us out. ...Other rooms are filled with rubble. It's a wreck, Stavan. I can't wait to know what's in the dungeons...or even better, what the bathrooms look like."

Stavan felt a chill prickle down his back. "You should leave the dungeons alone," he said.

Diehl gave him a strange look, but to Stavan's surprise he then drew his com and spoke into it. "HM-2086, are you there?" He listened to the squiggle from the com. "A dog-thing bit you? ...Anything else? ...All right, get back up here and get a bacta patch on that, on the double. The same goes for anyone else in the dungeons." He put the com away. "So you think Kaine got cold feet?"

Stavan thought of how Kaine had looked when he had contacted him. The man had been a wreck, grey-faced and haggard, not at all the same man that the commander had met in the restaurant. _Is there something wrong? _Stavan had asked him. _No, _Kaine had replied, his voice flat and lifeless. _There's nothing wrong with me._

Stavan looked at the flickering torches lining the walls, watched the way the lights made the troopers' shadows dance. There were fourteen of them in that room, Stavan and Diehl included, and there were a lot of shadows. _Kaine is dead, _he thought suddenly, and knew instinctively that Kaine would never arrive at Lucinia.

Presently a white shape came into the room from the dark hall opposite Stavan, and it was one of Diehl's troopers, with his hand held to the crook of his arm. There was blood on his bracer, dark in the light of the torches. Diehl nodded to one of his men, who moved to help HM-2086.

After another half hour of waiting Stavan got up and went back out onto the bridge. Night was coming, and it was colder now. He heard a shriek on the wind; surely one of the steppes cats, who hunted at night. Another shriek answered it, and something in the sound chilled his blood. _Get back to the ship while you have the chance, _a voice whispered in the back of his mind. _This is not a place to be at night._ He looked up at the tower. It was a spire of dark rock several hundred metres high, built in an oddly scrappy way, as if the builders had used whatever they found lying around without bothering to smooth the rough stone. It was full of crevices and nooks, and Stavan imagined that he could climb all the way up or down the outside of the tower if he wanted to.

Another shriek came, and with more haste than he had intended Stavan went back inside. "Kaine is dead," he told Diehl, "and we need to be getting back to the ship. If we're going to be staying here through the night, it will have to be there. Not here."

"Getting scared?" Diehl asked, with a wry smile. Behind him, HM-2086 moaned. Even though his arm had been cleaned and bandaged, even though he had gotten a bacta patch on the bite, he was holding his arm, his shoulders hitching.

_Infected? _Stavan wondered. "That man needs medical attention," he said, and pointed to another of Diehl's troopers. "You...HM-403. Take him back to the ship and get him into the infirmary." The trooper stood, then hesitated and looked to his own officer.

Diehl nodded. "You heard the man. Get going." As the two left, he shot Stavan a warning look. _My men, not yours, _it said. "What makes you so sure Kaine is dead?"

_There's something wrong here, _Stavan thought. The torches were still lit, but the room seemed darker. He looked at their shadows. _Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, _he counted, and then stopped. _No, that can't be right. _There were only thirteen of them in the room. He counted again. _Twelve...thirteen...fourteen. _A chill went down his back. He counted again. _Twelve...thirteen...fourteen...fifteen._ He looked up. The torches' light only went so far, and it seemed to him that the darkness was creeping downward, like black paint running down a wall. "There's something in here with us," he said. Before then there had been the soft murmur of voices, but at that they stopped completely.

His eyes locked on a bit of the darkness, which raised its head and looked at him with red eyes.

He gasped and went for his blaster, tearing it from its holster and firing in one quick, jerky motion. Diehl jumped, along with the troopers, and there were exclamations as something fell to the floor amongst the troopers, with a heavy sound.

"What is it—"

"That thing was crawling down the wall—"

"What _is _it?"

"It's all oily—"

"—Looks like a man—"

"_Quiet!_" Diehl snapped, and all the troopers, his and Stavan's alike, snapped to attention. "Let _us _have a look at that. Out of the way, all of you." The troopers parted, and Stavan got a look at what looked like a black, man-shaped creature lying facedown on the floor. Its arm twitched, and it began to get up. Diehl nodded to his men, who opened fire. There was a black splatter as four holes suddenly appeared in the thing's back.

"That's that," said Diehl. "All right, use your night vision and see if there's any more of these guys around." The troopers started to turn.

The thing got up.

Stavan had enough time to see the holes the blasters had made _filling in _before the thing lunged at him. He sidestepped, and then a warm spatter of black liquid hit his shoulder as one of his troopers shot it in the face. What happened next was very quick, as the darkness above fell on them in the shape of half a dozen snarling black creatures; there were screams and shots fired, and then Diehl was grabbing him by the arm and roughly hauling him out of the chamber while the Stormtroopers had their backs, firing repeatedly at creatures blasters did not kill.

The tower was alive with shrieks now, and they got as far as the next chamber before more of the dark things fell upon them. Stavan saw a man go down with two of them on him, and then the breath rushed out of him as a third creature tackled him to the floor. For a few seconds he evaded its snapping teeth, then punched it hard enough to get it off him, rolled to his feet, and shot it twice. He got to his feet, eyeing it as it began to get up again. _How do you kill something that can't seem to die?_ Out of the corner of his eye he saw Diehl struggling with another of the wraithlike things, the sleeve of his tunic stained red. Then more shots rang out, and it dropped away from Diehl with three holes in its side. The ISB officer ran toward Stavan, and together they retreated to the other side of the chamber where the troopers had clustered, pinning the black things down with suppressive fire. "_Look out!_" one of them called, and threw a grenade.

The officers had the sense to turn away, and Stavan felt a warm splatter on his back a second after the grenade went off. Stone chips rained down around them, and the commander coughed. When the smoke had cleared, he saw a scorch mark and a mess of burnt black stuff where the wraiths had been clustered.

"Are you all right?" Stavan asked Diehl, looking at the blood staining his sleeve.

"Yeah." Diehl flexed his arm, hissing through his teeth. "Crap, it burns, though..."

Stavan raised his voice. "This mission is over," he said to the troopers. "We're going back to the ship, and we are returning to Leto on the double." A few of them looked delighted; no Stormtrooper's helmet had ever managed to hide his emotions from Stavan. He waved them into position and they started down the hall, the troopers surrounding the officers.

They got to the main body of the tower, where the spiral staircase began to wind downwards, before they were attacked again. There were large wraiths, small ones, and even tiny ones that were smaller than Stavan's hand. Not all were person-shaped, and in the black horde the officer saw the familiar shapes of Lucinian animals. One the size of a cat leapt onto the commander's arm from where it had been crawling down the wall, and Stavan let out a yell when it sank its teeth into his arm. He tried to shake it off, and it bit him again. Finally he managed to dislodge it, and flung it over the railing.

Then he clamped a hand over his arm, hissing. It felt like liquid fire was spreading outward from the bites, and he had never felt anything so painful in his life. From far away he heard Diehl curse, and then his Stormtroopers were ushering him down the stairwell. There were hissing dark things all around them, and now it seemed to Stavan that they were talking in some slithery tongue. If he tried hard enough, he thought, wincing as the fire spread, he might understand them. But the blasters were too loud.

They made it to the first landing safely, but then the creatures they had been firing at scuttled across the walls and leapt on them from above. Omar was knocked down by one, and began to roll down the stairs. He was stopped a few metres later by Marek. Stavan was separated from his men at that point, and as he was borne away down the hall by a man-sized wraith, he saw one of them go down. He screamed when the wraith pulled him close and bit his shoulder hard, and shoved it away. Then he was sprinting, running away as fast as he could go, while the creature hissed and ran after him.

The sounds of battle faded behind him.

* * *

By the time they joined the group on the first landing, Diehl noticed that Stavan was no longer with them. "Where is he?" he demanded of one of the commander's Stormtroopers, who just shook his head.

"He went that way, sir," said one of Diehl's own troopers, pointing to a shadowy hallway. "One of those things was chasing him."

Diehl cursed and waved three of his men over. To the other two he said, "Return to the ship. When you do, bring it up to the landing pad—" He winced at the burning in his arm, "—and contact me immediately. We'll board from there." It would be hellish trying to get down six floors while those things were running around. The troopers nodded and hurried off down the stairs, then found a good place to attach their grappling lines.

With his own men flanking him, Diehl started off down the corridor after Stavan.

* * *

As he went along, the hissing of the wraiths sounded more and more like voices, and every now and then Stavan felt that he could make out a word...at least among those who had been people once.

He was lost. He had gone down the corridor, down a short flight of stairs, up a sloping ramp of a tunnel, through a half-hidden hall in the rock, and he had even climbed around a treacherous path along the outside of the tower, and somewhere along the way he had lost the wraith that had been chasing him. Now he stepped into a round chamber lined with torches, and cursed. It was the room he had been waiting in with Diehl and the others. He had gone in a circle.

He plucked a torch from a sconce, glancing around warily at how the shadows in the room danced. But there were no wraiths here, he was sure of that. When they were there, he could feel them, like presences walking around in his mind, like ripples on a pond. He didn't know how, and wondered if Diehl and the others felt the same way.

It was some effort holding the torch aloft, but he needed his right hand for his blaster. By now his left arm and shoulder were burning so badly that it felt like someone had jammed a torch into _them, _but the fire was under his skin and not on it, and it was spreading. He glanced down at his arm. There was no sign of infection, from what he could see beneath the torn cloth, but in the light of the torch his blood looked darker than before. The torn skin around the bites had stopped bleeding, but it had taken on a grey cast that he didn't like.

He left the room and went down the corridor to the main body of the tower, where the stairwell circled down and down. When he peered over the edge he saw the broken stairs, and a group of Stormtroopers moving downwards far below, but he did not see a white tunic among them. There were wraiths too, prowling around, scuttling stealthily after the group, on the walls or even on the underside of the stairs. Every now and then a pair of troopers behind the group shot at the black creatures, trying to keep them back.

_It's no good, _Stavan thought. _You need to be darker to talk to them and keep them back._ If Hrakis had been with them, he could have ordered them away. There was something in these creatures that made the commander think of the Chistori, something in their low, greasy darkness that tied to the way the Dark Jedi had been. Stavan wondered if he could order them away, or if it had to be a Force-sensitive.

A whispering behind him caught his attention, and he turned to see a pair of wraiths stalking toward him, out of the corridor by the first landing down. "Go away," he said. They didn't listen. "I _order _you to be gone!" he said sharply, raising his blaster. When they didn't listen, he shot each of them twice. They kept coming, the blaster holes filling in like he had shot jelly instead of flesh. He waved his torch at them, and _that _they did not like; they shied back, the firelight glistening on their oily skins. _Oil burns, _he thought, then lunged forward and thrust the torch into the belly of the one on the left.

It caught immediately, and it was only a couple of seconds before it was a shrieking, flailing, man-sized torch, and when it made a grab at Stavan the commander gave it a hard boot in the chest that sent it toppling over the ledge. The second had been shying back from the flames, but now swiped at him, drawing blood, and he clobbered it with the torch. Even from such a swift blow it caught fire, and he kicked it off the ledge like its partner, with a peculiar enjoyment that he had never felt before. Blood that felt hotter than it ought to ran from the cut at his hairline to his jaw, dripping from his chin. He looked at the chamber.

He had no climbing gear; that had been left to the troopers to carry. Looking at the stairwell and at the rough-hewn walls around him, he felt an absurd urge to climb over them the way the wraiths did. Only common sense held him back; common sense, and the knowledge that he would slip and fall to his death if he tried it. He might make a rope, if he had anything for it. _I could climb a sheet rope well enough, _he thought. _After they forbade me to see her, I got out of my room that way almost every night._

Then he laughed at the absurdity of it. "No sheets here, dummy," he said aloud. "Find another way down." He started down the stairs, but he had only made it past the second landing down when he encountered the first break in the stairs. He cursed to look at it. It was nearly a four-metre jump.

To his surprise, Diehl and a trooper came out of the hall at the third landing. The ISB officer looked up at him, and his dark eyes widened. "Hi," Stavan said, kneeling by the ledge. "How's it going?"

"Stavan, damn it, I've been looking for you for the last hour!" Diehl snapped. There was more blood on his tunic, but he looked healthy still, and angry, and...yes, even frightened.

"You need a torch," Stavan told him, and tossed it to them. Diehl scrambled to catch it, and managed to do so without burning his hands. "Burn the wraiths. They catch fire easily."

The major pointed at him. "You stay where you are," he said, glowering. "I'm coming to get you."

Stavan heard more whispering on the edge of his hearing. "No," he told Diehl. "They're coming to get _me. _You get to the bottom of the tower, I'll find my own way down." When Diehl started to yell at him again, he shot to his feet and growled, "_ISB or not, I am the commander here! Now go!_" In his own ears his voice sounded funny; sometimes a metallic rasp got into it, as if he had not spoken for a long time.

"Just leave him, sir, he got us into this!" the trooper at Diehl's side piped up. "The crazy son of a—"

Diehl wheeled around and backhanded the man so hard that he staggered against the wall, almost dropping his rifle. "_Shut up!_" the officer snapped, shaking some life back into his hand. "We're not leaving a man behind, do you hear me, trooper? _Do you?_"

"Yes, sir," the trooper muttered, subservient in the face of his officer's rage.

Stavan found himself laughing at the spectacle, but it wasn't his usual laughter; in his own ears it sounded almost cruel. "I'll find a way down," he said. "Don't worry about me, I can get another torch."

Diehl took a breath. "All right," he hissed. "You get that torch, then. But don't go down. You just get to the landing pad and wait there, all right? We're bringing the ship back up." Stavan nodded. With one last look over his shoulder at the younger man, Diehl disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

Stavan waited until the firelight faded from view, and then stood. Though his arm and shoulder burned still, the rest of his body was tingling. The tower did not seem so dark now; either his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, or the wraiths' poison had given him some kind of night vision. "You _were _people once, weren't you?" he asked.

A dark shape slithered out from under the stairwell. It was wearing Stormtroopers' armour. "_Yes,_" it hissed. It looked like it had been HM-2086 once. "_You join us now._"

Stavan raised his blaster. "No." It was blocking his way up; taking care to aim for the chinks in its armour, he shot it four times. When he ran up the stairs past it, it took a lazy swipe at his leg, but the regeneration had slowed it down. He turned and watched it get up. "Race me," he said. He was no longer feeling so afraid of the wraiths; there was little they could do to him that they hadn't done already, and he knew that he would be one of them by the time Diehl and the others managed to get the ship up, if they survived that long. "Beat me to the room with the torches."

The ex-Stormtrooper came after him, and he ran.

* * *

It was nearly an hour later that Diehl managed to get off the ship at the landing pad. It was full dark by now, and a moonless night. He had kept the torch, though, and nothing attacked him as he ran back inside.

There, inside the round chamber they had waited in, he found Stavan sitting on a stone bench, the hollow, scorched shell of a Stormtrooper's armour at his feet. His blaster was in his hands, and a torch lay on the floor nearby.

More than the armour, Diehl was struck by how awful Stavan looked; his skin had taken on a grey cast, and beneath it the major could see dark veins like webs along his jaw and brow and the sides of his face, just below the skin. The dried blood on one side of his face was black, as black as his hair, and his eyes were closed. When he opened them and looked at Diehl, the officer was shocked to see that they had turned red. Not pink, like something had irritated them, but _red._

His irises were still visible, a darker red against the more vivid crimson of his whites. _He's turning into a wraith, _Diehl thought, as he and Stavan stared at each other. For a moment there was something hostile in Stavan's face, as if the commander wanted nothing better than to bite him, but then the moment passed and he sagged back against the stone wall. His clothing was torn, the skin beneath bruised and bloodied. "_Septimus,_" he said. His voice was harsh. "You came."

"We need to get you to the medical bay immediately," Diehl said. Part of him noticed, uncomfortably, that the wraiths were keeping clear of the room. Possibly because Stavan was in it.

Stavan shook his head. "_I don't think_—" He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again the rasping hiss was gone. "—I don't think it will help." He got up, swaying unsteadily. "Thank you for coming. But I want a different favour from you." He came closer.

Diehl had a mental image of Stavan suddenly biting his face, but did his best to ignore it. "Yeah...?"

The commander took a breath. "I want you to shoot me."

"_What?_"

"_I'm out of_—I'm out of shots." One corner of Stavan's mouth twitched. "I don't want to be like one of these things, crawling around in the dark. Septimus. Shoot me." He came closer, close enough for Diehl to feel the puffs of air on his skin as he spoke. "If you have any mercy in you, then do it." He reached for Diehl's blaster but the ISB officer jerked back, away from him. "Do it. Do it!"

_Not you, _Diehl thought. He took another step back. _Not you, Stavan._

Stavan tore his hair. "Septimus, do you know how hard it is to hold onto myself right now?" he demanded. "Either kill me now, or give me your blaster and _let me do it myself!_"

Diehl drew his blaster. "Damn you, Erich," he spat, and shot him.

* * *

Maldict stepped into the captain's office, and the door slid shut behind him. The window was open, the room cold, but Maldict was used to Captain Rathbone's habits and it wasn't unexpected. The captain was sitting at his desk, typing at his computer. Obviously there was something troubling him, but he made no mention of it. "Commander Maldict, reporting as ordered, sir," the younger man said.

Captain Rathbone looked up. "Have a seat," he said, and the younger man sat down across from him. "We'll keep this brief. Kaine has deserted, and I want you to find him. See Snake-Eyes about possible locales; evidently one of his little birds reported seeing an imperial shuttle in the vicinity of the Nestar system. Given the political climate at this time, it is best you go undercover, without your Stormtroopers."

Maldict raised an eyebrow. "If I may ask," he said, "why me? This kind of job is usually for lieutenants and Stormtroopers."

"The galaxy at large thinks you're dead," the captain replied, sitting back in his chair. "You're not likely to be arrested, especially if you remain alone. And you know Kaine somewhat, I'm told. And, to be perfectly frank, Erril Kaven is no longer bedridden, and I think it best that you and he be kept separate for the time being." A look of distaste passed over the Mobian's face. "Considering."

"Thank you, sir," said Maldict. He didn't come back from the dead just to die on a lightsaber. "All right, I accept the mission. If I find Kaine, what then?" Deserters in the Empire were often executed, though the thought of killing Kaine left a bad taste in his mouth.

The captain sighed. "Capture him, report to me, and I will come to deal with him myself." He looked like he was about to say something, then shook his head instead. "That is all. Go see Snake-Eyes."

After Maldict had left, Captain Rathbone passed a hand over his eyes. _I hate this, _he thought. He felt as though a sword were hanging over his head suspended by a hair, ready to drop at some unforeseeable time in the future. Its presence made him feel helpless and frustrated, and sad as well. _I never got a chance to do half the things I wanted to, or needed to. _Maybe Lady Delphian was wrong; oracles never were right all the time, and _she _hadn't been the one to dream of a Mobian cemetery. _It's all nonsense, it has to be. A wolf fighting a dragon? Roses in the snow? That sounds more like heraldry than anything, and the Empire doesn't fly such banners. A knight kneeling in front of his queen? There are no queens here._

He got up and went to his shelf, then selected a holodisc book about the political and cultural natures of various planets on the Outer Rim. _Erril might hate me all over again for making him read this, _he thought, looking over the ghastly thing, _but it's high time he learned how to play this game of empires._ He would teach him as best he could, but he was not going to be around forever, and after that it would fall to Demarco and the others to be his tutors.

_Stop thinking like that, _he told himself, and left the office.

* * *

When he went to the knight's room it was empty, but he heard Kaven's voice around the corner, talking to someone. A _female _someone, if the flirty tone in his voice was any indication. The captain moved closer.

"Are you mocking me, Erril?" the woman's voice asked, sharply.

"Of course not, Bryn," Kaven answered. "There's nothing to mock. You outdid me, good on you. I heard you were being called the Red Queen now."

The woman sounded proud. "Yes." Then she sounded suspicious again. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Kaven asked, and now Captain Rathbone peeked around the corner to see the knight kneeling before a pretty, but stern-looking young woman with dark hair, wearing the uniform of a captain in the Starfighter Corps. "You outrank me, Bryn; a knight ought to kneel before a queen. So, my queen..." He bowed his head, a picture of chivalry.

Bryn seemed to like that, and she opened her mouth to say something, but then noticed the captain standing there. Kaven looked over his shoulder. "Should I come back another time?" Rathbone asked.

"No, we were just...ouch, Bryn, give me a hand up, will you...talking." Without taking her eyes off the captain, the flight officer groped at Kaven until she found his arm, then yanked him to his feet. Kaven wobbled and leaned on the wall. "You didn't interrupt anything. Captain, this is—"

"—Captain Bryn Shar of the Starfighter Corps, serving under Admiral Makar aboard the Star Destroyer _Imperial Dawn,_" the woman said smartly, straightening. "The admiral gave me leave to go planetside, sir...?"

"Captain Rathbone," the older man answered. Upon learning that he was the faction leader, she looked him over anew, and he had the feeling that he was being scanned thoroughly. He decided that he liked her. "Canaida Base is quite large, so be mindful you don't lose your way," he told her. "As for shore leave, there are more than enough things to keep us occupied here in our spare time." Lately the men had taken to snowboarding, he was told.

"I heard tell of a hot spring," Kaven piped up, cheerfully. "Maybe you and I could visit it at some point...and catch up."

"I'll think about it," said Captain Shar, whose tone said clearly _No way. _She nodded to the captain, and then walked off down the corridor.

"She likes you," Kaven said, when she had gone. Then the captain gave him the holodisc book. "Hello, what's this?" He read the title, then gave Captain Rathbone a mournful look. "I thought you liked me."

_I saw a knight kneeling before his queen, _the captain thought, and felt a little ill. "You know I do," he said. "But a knight ought to know the surrounding territories. Study it at your leisure; someday you will be involved in negotiations." He cocked his head, examining the knight. Kaven seemed surer on his feet than he had the day before. "Perhaps later on you could join me for a walk outside?" The pilot nodded.

"I'm joining Demarco for dinner," Kaven said, almost shyly. "So maybe after that?" The captain nodded. "See you then."

"Yes," Rathbone said. It was remarkable how much things could change in a day, he thought. "See you then."

* * *

When Diehl dreamed, he dreamed of a round chamber in a dark and draughty castle. He was lying on a stone slab, and in distant halls he could hear the drip of water on stone. A cloth draped over his hips covered him from navel to knee, but otherwise he was naked, and the slab was cold on his skin.

_What is this? _he thought, trying to glance around. It was hard to move. In the gloom he could see dark figures with bovine skull faces and ram's horns, wearing dark red wraps that hung low on the hips. The men were bare above the waist and the women wore bikini-like tops to cover their breasts, but both wore bronze bangles on their arms and curved daggers at their hips. _Stygians? _Diehl wondered, disquieted. _Am I about to be sacrificed?_

One of the figures came forward, a slender man of average height and fair skin. Diehl watched him approach. He stopped at the side of the slab on which the officer lay, and reached up.

When he lifted his skull mask, the face beneath was Stavan's, solemn as always. He leaned down, inhaling deeply, and put his mouth over Diehl's as if he were going to resuscitate him. Then he exhaled, and a gust of flame suddenly rushed down the major's throat and into his chest cavity, so hot that Diehl felt as if he were being burned to a crisp from the inside out. His body arched, and though he tried to scream, there was no sound but the rush of the fire. The heat spread from his chest outwards, burning his arms and legs, his hands and feet, his fingers and toes. He clutched at Stavan's shoulders, kicking and thrashing, and it seemed an eternity before the fire died away and Stavan's lips left his. The commander leaned back, sighing.

Steam rose from Diehl's skin and from between his lips. "What did you do to me?" he asked breathlessly, each word accompanied by a puff of steam. His chest was burning in three spots, but when he ran a hand over his skin, it felt smooth under his fingers. He could move again. He sat up, feeling his body burning. Stavan turned and walked back into the gloom. "Stavan! Get back here!" Diehl got to his feet, catching himself with one hand when his knees buckled beneath him, holding the sheet up around his hips with the other. "Stavan! Ah...it burns...it's _burning..._"

"_Please relax, Major Diehl,_" said the medical droid, as the human thrashed about. "_There will be a burning sensation as the poison is removed._" It lashed him down, and when Diehl awoke fully, he found himself lying in bed in an unfamiliar infirmary, while the droid poked him relentlessly with needles. "_We're almost finished,_" the droid said.

"Stavan," Diehl said. It felt like every muscle in his body was on fire. He turned his head to see the commander lying in the next bed, lily white and with his hands folded on his stomach. His eyes were closed and he lay still, but his chest rose and fell. His wounds had been bandaged. The major looked back to the droid. "How is he?"

"_He will be healthy again, with proper nutrition and bed rest,_" the medical droid replied. Its needles filled up with blood and some nasty black stuff that made Diehl feel dirty just to look at. "_The commander is a young man, and he will recover quickly._"

Diehl fell back against the pillow. "So I got him back in time," he said. He had taken a gamble and shot Stavan on his pistol's stun setting, and then carried him into the ship's medical bay before he took his own treatment. The wraith poison had seemed to rip through him faster than anyone else.

"_Another hour, and he would most certainly have died,_" the droid agreed. "_Rest, sir. You are not near well enough to perform your military duties at this time._"

"I'm fine," Diehl said, but he was tired and sore, and even his _eyelashes _ached. "Where are we?"

"_Leto._"

He glanced again at Stavan. When they had undressed him they had left the ring on his finger, and it shone gold in the light. "Pretty close call, huh," he murmured, and settled down again.

* * *

"Captain," asked Kaven, as they walked through the outskirts of the forest together, "what's wrong?" The older man had seemed melancholy that day, and even now some shadow of sadness clung to him. Jan was often like that, the knight mused, when something was bothering him.

_Nothing, _the captain seemed ready to say, but then just shook his head and said, "A great many things, but I won't trouble you with them."

"I guess it's not any of my business?"

Captain Rathbone looked pained. "It could be," he admitted, "but I don't think I ought to tell you. You've had enough to worry about as of late. ...Let's rest here."

Kaven's legs had begun to get tired, and he sank down gratefully onto a fallen log. It was snowing that day, coming down in fat, feathery clusters, and his head and shoulders were thoroughly dusted. He brushed a gloved hand over his hair and, strangely, found himself thinking of falling ashes. "You can say it if you want to," he told the older man. "Is it about the faction? Or...about me?" The captain didn't answer, and just looked away, away to the snowy woods.

For a while neither of them spoke. And then the captain asked, quietly, "Erril. After Bal Kodar was killed, what did you do?"

Kaven lifted his chin. "He was a Jedi. Talos told me that Jedi cremate their own, so we made him a pyre and gave him a Jedi funeral. After that we left Mustafar. It was still burning when we left."

The captain was biting his lip. "There was another Jedi," he said, eventually. "A woman...a Togruta...on Bal'demnic. What became of her?"

Kaven thought. Bal'demnic seemed so long ago, but it hadn't even been a year yet, had it? He tried to remember his orders. "The Kon'me do their burials at sea," he recalled, "so I had her given the same, I think. Captain, why are you asking these things?"

Captain Rathbone kicked at some snow. Then he spied something in the woods, and Kaven looked as well. Far off he saw what looked like a trio of iron-grey wolves, though they were bushier around the chest and shoulders than other wolf species, almost like they had manes. "Why...they're _tiny,_" the captain said, sounding charmed.

"They look normal size to me," said Kaven, squinting. He guessed that one would have gone up to about mid-thigh on him.

"No, they're tiny. They're so..._little_."

Kaven smiled. "What's normal to you, then?"

"They ought to be taller than I am," the captain said firmly. The wolves saw them, and quickly trotted back into the cover of the trees. After a moment Rathbone turned back to Kaven. "Erril. Do you ever have visions?"

"Uh, sometimes...but mostly I think I just have bad dreams." He remembered dreaming of fire and blood once, and he supposed now that it might have been Mustafar.

In a swift motion the captain knelt in front of him, looking at him intently. "Have you ever dreamed of me?" he asked.

Kaven tried to remember. One of his sick dreams came back like an old memory mostly faded, and he said, "Yes, I think so. It was snowing...and you were in a forest. Maybe this one, maybe not. You were on your knees, there was red in the snow...blood, maybe."

He supposed there might have been a dark form lying nearby, and he was about to say so when the captain hissed, "I've heard enough." Kaven's mouth shut with a clack, and the older man bowed his head, sighing, then got up.

"Let's go back to the base," he murmured, helping the knight up. The melancholy was back on him again.

"You were okay," Kaven insisted. "Nothing bad had happened to you, but Demarco started yelling at you."

For a moment the captain looked uncertain. Kaven looked up at him, then put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed gently. "You'll be all right, Captain," he said.

* * *

When Diehl awoke, Stavan had regained consciousness and was sitting propped up on his pillows. He was looking at the major. The irises of his eyes were blue again, the whites white, and those eyes were narrowed now. "I thought I told you to shoot me."

Diehl pulled himself up, feeling oddly weak. "I did."

"On the stun setting, obviously." Stavan glared at him. "What if I had turned into a wraith and killed you all on the way back?"

"What if, what if," the ISB officer muttered. "So I should have just let you die instead of saving you, is that it? As it happened, you weren't a wraith yet. I didn't go back into that tower to shoot you, Stavan. I went back to get you out of there."

Stavan shook his head. "Kaine never showed up. He never will. I'm useless to you and the ISB now. They said only a few of us survived; you, me, Omar, Marek...and one of your men. The rest were killed. You shouldn't have come with me."

"I'm glad I did," Diehl shot back. If Stavan felt like fighting, so be it. "And don't think you're getting away that easily; you're still working for the ISB."

"I owe you?" Stavan asked, coolly.

Diehl saw the trap in agreeing. "We're square now," he said gruffly. "You at the nightclub, me at the tower. Anyway, since Kaine's gone, we've got a lot more work to do. And you and me make a pretty good team." He had begun to honestly enjoy his time with Stavan. He wasn't ISB.

Stavan seemed mollified. He settled down, fiddling with the ring on his finger. Diehl watched him a while, then said, "You were playing with that in the tent the one night, weren't you?" The younger man nodded. "So, uh...about that ring..."

Stavan sighed. "I wear it sometimes, for luck."

Diehl grinned. "It didn't bring you much luck in the tower, now, did it?" He lay back, lacing his hands behind his head. "Well, we've got plenty of time. Why don't you tell me about it?"

"No," said Stavan, not smiling.

In the silence that followed Diehl rolled onto his side, looking at him. "Hey," he said quietly, "you're not a widower, are you?"

The commander shook his head, slipping the ring from his finger. "No," he replied, "but I'd rather not talk about it right now." He set it on the nightstand.

Then he lay back, and they spoke no more.

* * *

The painkillers had made Diehl drowsy, and later on, when he had come out of a restless sleep, he found Stavan sitting up in bed, working on a datapad. "I might have been unfair," the commander said, as the ISB officer sat up on his elbows. "I should have thanked you for saving my life, not yelled at you." He looked up from the device. "Thanks."

"Uh, no problem." Diehl rubbed his eyes, still half asleep. "How long was I out?"

"All day." Stavan smiled. "You ought to have a shave. You look disreputable."

Diehl reached up to his cheek and felt bristles. "An ex of mine would have disagreed with you," he said, getting out of bed. He felt a little dizzy and a little tender, but otherwise all right; he had always been a quick healer. There was a bathroom attached to their room, and when he glanced in the mirror he saw that he had nearly two days' growth of beard. Not regulation at all. He began to shave. "Whenever I took my leave with her, she'd make me skip a shave. She thought the stubble was sexy." He liked himself clean-shaven much better, but hey, whatever made her happy, right? He tended to spoil his girlfriends.

After he was done, he came out again. "Better?" he asked. Stavan nodded; he seemed in a better mood than before. He went back to his bed and sat down. "So only three of our troopers survived."

"One of your own had to be shot on the way back," the commander answered, quietly. "He would have turned into a wraith before the medical droids could get to him. He was put into the morgue...and I have troopers guarding the place, in case he—" He hesitated.

"In case he gets up," Diehl finished. _That _was a disturbing thought, and it made him think of the fire Stavan had breathed down his throat, in that odd dream. Painful, agonizing...but somehow wonderful at the same time, somewhere between agony and ecstasy.

_Wait, that doesn't mean I want to kiss Stavan, does it? _Diehl gave him a sideways look. He liked Stavan well enough, but that didn't mean he wanted to get into the guy's pants. Or _any _guy's pants, for that matter.

"What are you eyeballing me about?" Stavan asked, returning the look with a wary one of his own. "Of course I don't believe in zombies, I'm just being careful."

Before Diehl could answer, the door to their room slid open and Commander Marwyn came marching in, looking fit to be tied. "_You two!_" he thundered. "Where is that Kaine? More importantly, where is that _card?_ Neither of you reported to me after your trip to Lucinia, and I had to be informed by your troopers _when I got here _that you even came back at all!" He stepped up to Stavan's bedside. "Report, Commander. Was the mission a success?"

"No, sir," Stavan answered.

Marwyn reared up like a viper. "_Why not?_"

"Kaine never showed up," Diehl said, verbally placing himself between them. Marwyn looked at him, lips thin. He quickly explained about how the mission had gone, and the ISB officer's expression moved from anger to disbelief to intrigue as he told his side of the story.

"Lucinian wraiths," said Marwyn. "Hmm...tell me more about them." He sat down on the side of Stavan's bed, and listened quietly to the tales of both men. "Highly poisonous, self-propagating...hate fire. I see. Very interesting." He looked at Stavan. "Stavan, I'm sure you would do me the courtesy of allowing me to borrow your pathologist for an autopsy on my trooper." It was not a question, and most certainly he would not expect a refusal; Stavan nodded, his expression neutral.

Marwyn got up. "Wonderful." Looking strangely pleased, he went to the door. "Oh, and...Stavan. You are to continue working with the ISB."

"As you wish, sir," the younger man replied. The door slid shut behind Marwyn, and Stavan glanced at Diehl. "This can't be good," he said.

* * *

Maldict had found nothing on Nestaria itself, and nothing on the other inhabitable planets of the system, though an imperial shuttle had been found in a field on Nestaria. Its moon had been terraformed aeons ago, and that was where the officer continued his search. _Have you seen this man? _he had asked what felt like a million times, showing a picture of Kaine, and each time all he had gotten were head-shakes and replies to the negative. For days, that had been all he had gotten.

The lunar locale he was in now was a lakeside town abounding in greenery and smelling of flowers and fresh air, and the breeze was very warm. Though shuttles came and went to the moon, which was called Obos by the Nestarians and Mersia by its inhabitants, it was a haven for those who did not love high technology, and there were few droids and even fewer spaceships visible as he made his way down the street. _I'd like this place if I were on the run, _he thought, looking around. It had good weather and beautiful women (the men were a disappointment, though), and the food was better than he had had in a long time.

It had success, as well.

"Yes, I saw this man," one wrinkled old man said, lifting a nut-brown arm and pointing down the street. "I saw him today. He went that way."

Maldict thanked him and started down the street at a faster pace, looking hard at the face of every passer-by. It was too soon for Kaine to have grown a beard, but he could have dyed his hair or cut it off, and put colour-changing contacts in, or...

He turned a corner and caught a glimpse of the man. Major Kaine was standing by a vendor's stall, looking over a row of newspapers. He was out of uniform, dressed in a white shirt of the local style, dark pants, and knee-high boots. Maldict jogged closer. "Kaine," he called.

Kaine looked his way, turned white, and bolted.

Maldict cursed. _I should have kept my mouth shut, _he thought, running after him. He sprinted after Kaine, who led him first down one street and then another, hopped a fence, ran through a garden, hopped another fence, ducked through a hedgerow, and ran on and on. He was faster than Maldict, but did not have as much stamina, and he was beginning to slow down. He turned a corner, and Maldict followed him. By the time he got there Kaine was out of sight, and when he turned to look, Maldict saw the major standing against the wall of a building, breathing hard, almost out of sight behind a fruit merchant's stall. Their eyes met, and Maldict lunged at him. Kaine let out a yelp and leapt out of the way of his grasping hands, and then he was off again.

After that the chase led down to the beachfront, and Kaine's heels kicked up sprays of sand as he ran. It was getting closer to sunset, and the light off the water was by turns gold and pink and orange. "_Leave me alone!_" Kaine shouted. He at least still had breath for speech, but Maldict had lost that capacity since he had chased the man down the boardwalk. "_I broke it, leave me alone!_"

Maldict had no idea what he was talking about, but made himself run faster. Both his legs and his chest were burning, and he doubted he would last much longer. Kaine was slowing and stumbling as well, and he was catching up.

Finally, on a lonely stretch of beach below a sheer cliff, Maldict caught him by the shoulder. Kaine turned, and his fist passed less than ten centimetres from the older man's face. He went off-balance. Maldict seized him by both arms, he began to struggle, and they both went down, kicking and struggling in the sand. Kaine fought like a wildcat, but he had no energy left after that long run, and Maldict was much stronger than him besides. He collapsed, panting, with the officer pinning his arms down. "_Don't kill me!_" Kaine cried, wriggling about underneath him. "I broke it, I didn't give it away, please—"

"Broke...what?" Maldict's breath was starting to return to him, but he was dead tired after the run-around Kaine had given him, and he put his full weight on the younger man to keep him down. "I'm not going...to kill you, Kaine."

Kaine's brown eyes were huge. "The captain will!" He struggled some more, feebly. "Just let me go, you never saw me here, if the captain finds me, he'll kill me..."

Maldict didn't reply to that, but just spent some time catching his breath instead. "I can't let you go," he said, when he had rested enough. "I was sent to find you."

To his surprise, Kaine gave up. "Fine," he hissed. "I knew running would never help. I've never been that lucky." He glared up at the older man. "Why don't you just drown me and be done with it?"

Maldict wanted to shake some sense into the man, but right now his instincts were telling him to treat him gently. He studied him. Kaine's face was pale, his brown hair tangled and mussed; his arms and his slender body were shaking with exertion, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. He looked only marginally better than he had on Canaida. "What made you run?" he asked. Kaine didn't answer. "I remember you telling me that Captain Rathbone was sleeping with Kaven...is that why you...?"

Kaine looked away pointedly, but the redness in his cheeks told Maldict the answer. "I see," Maldict said. He let go of Kaine's wrists and sat back in the sand. Kaine sat up and scrambled back a metre or two, but didn't run. He curled up, eying Maldict over his knees like a caged animal. "I was sent to find you and capture you, but I'm not to hurt you," Maldict told the younger man. "If the captain wanted you dead, he would have just had me do it." It was technically a lie; Captain Rathbone disliked sending others to do his killing, and it could well be that the captain intended to execute Kaine for murder and desertion himself when he arrived.

Whether Kaine believed him or not, he gave no sign, and just watched him quietly. "So it was jealousy," Maldict said. "I never took you for a bunny-boiler, Kaine."

"I'm _not,_" Kaine growled.

"You shot a Stormtrooper and you were going to shoot Kaven for being around the captain so much," Maldict shot back. "If that's not mad jealousy, I'd hate to see what _is_."

Kaine hid his face. The older man drew his holoprojector, switched it on, and contacted the captain. Rathbone's small blue ghost looked gloomy. "Sir, I've found Kaine," Maldict said. "He's on the Nestarian moon of Obos." He gave their coordinates. "He's with me now. Do you want to talk to him?"

"_No,_" the captain replied. "_Keep him with you until I arrive. I shall be there the day after tomorrow._"

After Maldict had put the holoprojector away, Kaine moaned. "A day," he said, muffled. "A day and a half." He lifted his face. "He _will _kill me. The things I said to him...no, Maldict, it was _not _just jealousy. I wanted...I w-_wanted _the captain for years, but I didn't know until I talked to him the last time. If it was just jealousy, I would have hated Demarco like I hated Kaven. For being his second." He waited a moment, watching Maldict's face, but the older man didn't reply. "I was all right before Kaven came...I felt all right, I wasn't crazy. I wasn't comfortable with the captain, but it was all right. But then things got worse, and I started hating Kaven more and more, and the captain, too. And I wanted to leave. I _had _to leave."

"I heard some of the others saying that Kaven leaks into the Force," Maldict said, carefully. He felt like he was walking on eggshells. "Maybe that's what the dark side feels like?"

"Whether it is or not," Kaine said, with finality, "I'm _not _going back to Canaida."

The officer shook his head. "You'll do what the captain says, Kaine. Sorry." Then he got to his feet in a hurry as Kaine rose, ready to go after him if the man tried to run again.

But Kaine didn't move. "Are you judging me?" he asked. "I tried not to be this way, you know. But I'm not like you. I don't have the luxury of knowing who I can want."

"Nobody does," Maldict replied, nonplussed. "Not me, or you, or Demarco, or anybody else. It's not some infallible sixth sense." He gazed at Kaine for a moment, and then said, "There's nothing wrong with you."

The major looked away. "I wish I had met you twenty years ago," he said quietly. Maldict did not know what to say to that. Kaine looked back at him and lifted his chin defiantly. "Anyway, you're not going to leave until the captain comes to shoot me, and we're not waiting on the beach for a day and a half. I've been staying near here. We're going there."

The older man followed the younger, noting the tension across Kaine's shoulders and the way his hands had curled into fists. He seemed to have resigned himself to whatever fate Captain Rathbone was planning for him, and he didn't say anything else as they walked across the twilit beach and up a meandering path to where a small, round hut stood. Kaine unlocked the door and they went in. When the major lit a series of kerosene lamps hanging in various places around the room, the cabin was revealed to be nearly one large room, with a second room off the first for a bathroom. There was a bed, a kitchen area, a dressing screen, and a table, and everything was quite neat and clean; Kaine was not a messy bachelor. "Tiny place," Maldict commented.

"It was enough," Kaine said. He was standing in the centre of the room, looking lost. "I touched down on Nestaria and came here. I didn't think anyone would find me, in such a quiet place." He went to the bed and sat down, staring off into space.

Maldict glanced around. "You won't run away?"

"No."

It was either the floor or the tub, the older man saw. "I guess I'll be sleeping in the bathroom, then," he said, moving to the doorway. He nearly sighed when he saw the tub. It was galvanized tin, and looked none too comfortable for sleeping.

"Where you sleep," Kaine said from behind him, in a strange voice, "is...entirely up to you."

Maldict turned. The major was still sitting on the bed, his back to him. He went around so that they were facing each other, and Kaine looked up. He didn't flinch away when Maldict touched his cheek, nor did he move when the older man leaned down to kiss him.

Even after their lips had parted, their foreheads remained together. "Maldict," Kaine murmured. "Be..._nice_, all right?"

"Sure," Maldict replied, and kissed him again.

* * *

"You may wish to cover your nose now," said Doctor Morrigan, the pathologist at the Letoan base, as she lifted a small drill with a round saw blade at the end. She was a small, older woman with grey-blonde hair, only her eyes visible behind a white surgical mask. "You may also wish to look away."

Commander Marwyn stood nearby, a scented handkerchief lifted halfway to his face as he watched the autopsy with repulsed fascination. "I can watch," he said; in truth, he could not take his eyes off of the procedure. The Stormtrooper lying stretched out on the table, HM-332, had been badly infected with Lucinian wraith poison when the others had been forced to shoot him before he turned. Four blaster wounds were visible between the man's—but was it really a man anymore?—collarbone and groin, like little red holes burnt into the skin. The doctor had cut a giant Y into his torso. It was all very clean in truth, but what bothered Marwyn was the man's grey complexion and the dark lines of the veins beneath his skin. When the doctor had cut open the man's arm to have a look at them, they had been black, as if oil ran through his veins instead of blood.

He watched as the doctor used the saw to slice through the breastbone, and then jumped back with a gasp when the trooper _sprung open._ The doctor was not bothered by the sight, and merely spoke calmly into the microphone dangling over the table, describing the damage the blaster shots had made before moving on to the more horrific details.

Marwyn crept forward, holding the kerchief tightly over his nose. The inside of the man's chest cavity was _black, _and all the organs were greasy, oily, and dark as pitch. He thought he knew inner organs passing well, but he had no idea which was which in the black mess. Then he noticed something else.

His handkerchief dropped away from his face. "It's _moving!_" he exclaimed. He took a breath, and promptly wished he hadn't. He raised the handkerchief to his nose again, gagging, breathing in the cologne he'd put on it, and trying to forget what he had just smelled.

Morrigan's blue eyes had widened a bit above her mask, but her voice was calm as she spoke, describing the way the black mess seemed to be flowing and quivering slightly, like an oil slick floating on the sea. If he hadn't been a vegan to begin with, Marwyn decided, he would certainly have become one after this. He was beginning to regret his arrogance in deciding to stay and watch the autopsy.

"You may leave if you wish, Commander," the doctor told him, taking up a syringe from the table. "I will be taking tissue samples from here."

Marwyn nodded to her and left the morgue. He had a crawly feeling, like worms wriggling beneath his skin, and when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror of the washroom down the hall, he looked pasty and ill. He took off his cap and splashed his face with cold water, then went and took a seat on one of the chairs outside the morgue, took out his datapad, and went to work.

It was an hour later that Doctor Morrigan came out again, her mask down around her neck and her gloves off. "I think it best that the subject be cremated," she said. "I have taken enough samples of flesh, blood, and..._substance_, to run the tests I want."

"I shall take a vial of the wraith substance as well, for our own research," Marwyn told her. He knew of one particular imperial scientist who would be very interested in this. "Doctor, are there any antidotes to this?"

She shook her head. "None that are known. Sir—"

"But the condition can be cured."

"Yes, though the procedures are barbarous and take hours to complete."

_If a population were infected, it would be like a plague, _Marwyn thought. He had not been idle while the doctor had been performing the autopsy; on his datapad he had found and read through legends on the wraiths, and it was said that a dark Force-user could control them, could command them. The moment he had learned that, he had made a mental note to go to Bastion and take it up with Lord Kratos.

"If you wish to have a sample of the substance," Morrigan said, "then you must have Commander Stavan's signature and consent."

_I'll have that easily enough, _the ISB officer thought. "Very well." _I ought to see the director about this. If the Sith can control those wraiths, then we shall have a _nearly _unstoppable army on our side. And if they get too unruly...we'll burn them._

He smiled. "I'll have Commander Stavan sign the forms right away," he said.

* * *

"You've done remarkably well," Admiral Makar told Kaven, as the knight settled down on his bed. It was his own bed, in his own room. The doctor had declared him fit enough to leave the infirmary, and he was looking forward to the comfort of his own tiny territory. "A little over a week ago, you were mostly dead. Now you're quite well, if a bit scratched up—" he gestured with his cane to the bandages still visible beneath Kaven's shirt, "—and you've settled things with Lee, I see."

"We had a good long talk. Admiral, do you know why the captain's seemed so depressed since coming back from Relinquish or wherever he went to see, um..."

"Lady Delphian? And it's Reliquus, Erril, not Relinquish."

"That's the one." Kaven ran a hand down his arm, where a cast had been a couple of days ago. It was disturbing how easily Hrakis had broken his arm. _At least it wasn't my neck, _he thought. "This Lady Delphian isn't the captain's girlfriend, is she?"

Admiral Makar laughed. "No, no. That might be robbing the cradle, on her part. He goes to her for advice sometimes. She's no Jedi, but she's well-attuned to the Force. She's something of an oracle, that old lady."

Kaven could use some advice. "I wonder if he'd take me to her," he said aloud.

"Maybe, maybe not. He wouldn't take me. It's a whole monastery of young women, he said, and I'm too much of an old rascal to be trusted with that crowd."

The knight smiled at that; it sounded like his kind of place. "All right. Why is he depressed now? Did she tell him something bad?"

"I don't know," the old man told him, twitching his moustache. He was sitting on Kaven's chair, with an elbow resting on the small desk. "Lee's not the sort to tell anyone anything he doesn't strictly need to, or so it seems. To tell the truth, he can be rather maddening." There was a pitcher of water on the desk, and he poured himself a glass. Sipping it, he turned back to Kaven. "Has he ever told you _why _he joined the Empire?"

_I want the Empire that should have been, _Kaven remembered the man saying, and told the admiral so. The old officer grinned and said, "Oh, really? Well, that's only half a fib, I suppose. He never told you why he _originally _joined, did he?"

"Well, no."

The admiral poured a second glass of water. "It threw me when I found out," he said, reminiscing. "He was close to your age, maybe a little older. Such an intense lad. When I found out what he was about, we had a standoff in my office, blasters out."

Kaven could not imagine Captain Rathbone and Admiral Makar fighting. He accepted the glass of water the old man gave him. "And then what?"

"He didn't really want to shoot me, otherwise he would have done so in a moment. I managed to talk some peace into him, calm him down. And then, for better or worse, I joined him in his madness. I suppose that was when the seed of the New Empire was planted, though we didn't really get started until the disaster at Endor."

"So," Kaven asked, sipping at his water, "why did the captain join the Empire?"

Admiral Makar came back to the present. "Why," he said, "he joined to kill Emperor Palpatine."

* * *

"They're here," Kaine said, when he saw the imperial shuttle through the bathroom window. Maldict made a questioning noise, but made no attempt to get up. He was very comfortable where he was, sitting back in the bath with his eyes closed and Kaine lying back against him. "Maldict, the _captain!_" the younger man hissed, and the officer's eyes snapped open. With a curse he let Kaine get out of the steaming water and wrap a towel around himself, then climbed out of the tub after him.

Still modest, Kaine went behind the dressing screen. Maldict dressed where he was. After they were decent again, they went outside. The imperial shuttle had landed in a grassy field beyond the beach, and the ramp was coming down. Kaine's hands shook as he watched Captain Rathbone disembark, flanked by a pair of Stormtroopers. They made their way up the hill, the captain's hair shining like burnished steel in the morning sunlight.

Kaine turned to Maldict. "You made me happy," he said, hurriedly. "It was only a day and a half, but it was the best I've felt in years." He kissed the older man on the cheek, and then turned to face his doom.

Captain Rathbone was close enough that Kaine could see his face clearly now. He looked saturnine. He was walking up the hill with leggy grace, with the air of a man determined to do a duty he did not like, and there was a blaster holstered at his hip. Kaine swallowed nervously.

The captain glanced at him, standing beside Maldict, and then turned to his troopers. "Go back to the ship," Kaine heard him say. "I shan't be long." Then he came the rest of the way, until he was standing in front of Kaine and Maldict, looking them over with eyes the grey of iron. "Maldict," he said. "Leave us. This is between Kaine and myself only."

"Yes, sir," Maldict replied. With one last unhappy look at Kaine, he turned and went down the hill, walking quickly, leaving the two of them alone.

The captain and the major stared at each other. Rathbone had never reminded Kaine more of frost and iron than he did in that moment, and he admired him as much as feared him. "Captain," he said, softly.

"Major," Captain Rathbone said. His right hand rose, and he slapped Kaine hard across the face. The _crack _of it was so loud it seemed to echo.

The force of it made Kaine stagger. "I, I, I guess I earned that," he said, putting a hand to his cheek. It felt on fire.

"I can hardly begin to tell you what you've earned," the older man told him. "That was for me. The way you spoke to me, the way you made me grovel." Then he reached down, and the major shut his eyes. But when he heard the rustle of paper instead of the rasp of a blaster being drawn from its holster, he opened first one eye and then the other. The captain thrust something into his hand. A form of some kind. Kaine could hardly believe it. "For the crimes of murder and desertion, you are hereby granted a dishonourable discharge from the imperial military," Rathbone said, gruffly. "Do not return to neo-imperial territory, Kaine." He made to go.

"Wait," Kaine called. The captain stopped. "You're not...executing me?"

There was a moment of silence. "I promised you freedom for your mercy," Captain Rathbone replied, turning back to him. "I keep my promises. Good day, Kaine."

And then he left, walking back down the hill, leaving Kaine behind with nothing but the paper in his hands and the knowledge of why he had fallen for him.

* * *

"You spared him," Maldict said, when the captain got back to the shuttle. He was standing beside the lowered ramp, with his arms crossed and his face uncharacteristically grey.

"Yes," Rathbone replied. "I had a promise to keep." _Your honour is your light in the dark, _Terra had told him once. _Do not let go of it, or you _will _be lost. _Erril was not the only one who had to stay away from the dark side. "You may remain here for a few days if you wish, Maldict, but I expect you to return to Canaida within the week."

"Thank you, sir," the younger man said, and it was not just for the leave.

Rathbone climbed up the ramp, took his seat in the passenger compartment of the shuttle, and sighed. "Get us back to Canaida," he told the pilots. "We're done here."

* * *

They were having dinner together in the cafeteria when Diehl asked, "So you were wearing that thing the day we got attacked by wraiths, and the day Marwyn mistook you for Captain Demarco. Does that ring _ever _give you luck?"

Stavan stirred his rice with his fork. "I was wearing it the day I met you," he said. Diehl was about to ask whether that was a good or a bad thing, but after a moment's thought he decided that he really didn't want to know the answer. Disgruntled, he poked at his dinner, but before he could say anything, a shadow fell over them. He looked up.

It was Commander Marwyn. Smiling, he set a datapad before Stavan, who looked nonplussed. "Release forms for tissue samples?" he asked. "Why?"

"That's the bureau's business," Marwyn replied. "For research purposes...I'm sure you'll be so good as to sign that for me, to make it nice and official. I would be very happy if you did, Commander Stavan." _And very _un_happy if you didn't, _his tone implied.

"Uh, okay." Stavan fumbled for the sensor pen, and quickly wrote his signature. Marwyn looked pleased, took the pen and the datapad back, and left them in peace. Stavan watched him go. "That was for the wraith poison," he said quietly, after the Mobian was out of earshot. "In my time with the Empire I've done a few distasteful things...but I've never felt evil until now."

"It's not like you had a choice," Diehl told him.

"What's he going to do with it?"

"Hopefully nothing stupid."

Stavan looked back to Diehl, a thoughtful look on his face. "Yesterday," he said, "when Marwyn came storming in, you took his anger off of me. Why did you do that?"

Diehl shrugged. "Could be I've got a soft spot for nerds," he said.

Both of Stavan's eyebrows raised. "_Nerd?_" he repeated, affronted. Then he snorted. "Yeah, right. You probably stuffed them into lockers during high school."

"So you think I'm a bully, huh?"

Stavan sat back. "When you first came here," he said, "I thought you were. Now I'm not so sure."

"That almost sounds like a compliment, Erich."

After they had finished their meal, Stavan stood up, taking his tray in hand. He was still favouring his left arm some, and beneath his sleeve Diehl could see bandages. "See you later," he said.

"Yeah, all right," Diehl replied, watching him go.

* * *

It was about a week after Captain Rathbone had returned from his trip to Obos, and when Jan entered the meditation room to talk to his brother, he found Kaven sitting on one of the round cushions with his head bent over a datapad of some sort. Outside the sun had just lifted over the horizon, and the sky was a watercolour wash of pink and orange and blue.

"Erril," said Jan, and his older brother lifted his head and turned to him. He had been complaining of some lingering soreness, and under his clothing his stomach was still purple, but with his uniform on he looked almost like the incident on Korriban hadn't happened, save for the fading bruises on his cheek. "What are you reading?"

Kaven smiled. "Just a holodisc book on knights around the galaxy. I've been doing a lot of thinking, and...well." He shrugged and handed the datapad to his brother. "There's usually a knightly code of conduct for each of the orders, and I was thinking that we ought to adopt one. I should, at least. I haven't been a very honourable knight, I don't think, and even if knight's honour sounds old-fashioned, I think it could do us a lot of good."

Jan looked over the datapad, which was open now to an encyclopaedic entry on the white knights of Annalys. "Chivalry?" he asked.

His older brother laughed, a bit self-consciously. "Yeah. There's nothing further from the dark side than some good, old-fashioned chivalry. If I stick to the code, I might not stray again."

_Let's hope he remembers his chivalry in a few hours, _Jan thought. He had heard that Maldict was returning to Canaida that day, and he wanted them to meet while he was there to put himself between them. "That's true," he agreed, and handed the datapad back. "Erril—"

Kaven stood up. "I was also thinking about something else," he said. "Since we're starting an official order of imperial knights, we'll need to have some distinctive markings of some kind. I was talking with the intelligence guys...actually, they were the ones that scrounged up that holodisc for me...and we were plotting out a uniform."

Jan cocked his head, the business with Maldict temporarily forgotten. "Yeah?"

"At first I was thinking to have just an army uniform with the officers' pips different," Kaven said, waving the datapad, "but then Snake-Eyes said that was boring and that I was boring, and Gammell got on my case as well. After that...all right, so imperial colours are white, black, red, and grey, and we ought to incorporate that. A red cloak is nice and dashing, but we can't put it with a black uniform because of unfortunately Sithy implications. A white tunic would work, but it looks too much like ISB for comfort, so we decided on a grey tunic with black boots and pants and a red cape. No cap. That's nicely streamlined and imperial, with just enough dash and it gets the job done. What do you think, little brother?"

Smiling, Jan asked, "Where does the white come in?"

"On our lily-white arses," his brother replied promptly, and Jan knew then that things really had gotten better. "No, the cloak clasp could have the imperial symbol in white on black."

"Maybe you should have become a fashion designer, Erril."

"I like being a knight more." Kaven sat back down, crossing his legs.

"I've gotten my first mission," Jan told him, suddenly. The older knight raised an eyebrow. "I'm going with Lieutenant Nalian to Ordo Scrugg's party on Misketalia. We're going to try to get him to side with us, or at least do business with us."

"When is this party?"

"Inside of two weeks. Captain Rathbone wanted me there in case things got hairy, and we'll be keeping backup nearby in case things get even hairier."

Kaven's brow furrowed. "If it's well-known that Scrugg is hosting this party, you can bet there's going to be rebels and-or ISB there," he said. "Everyone's fighting over neutral planets like scraps of meat these days. I'm going to worry about you, Jan."

"I'll be all right, I think," Jan replied. "They're hiring imperial soldiers as guards, so imperial citizens are allowed in freely. Intelligence is making me and Nalian fake IDs." Kaven's look didn't ease. "Erril, there's one other thing. Uh. Commander Maldict. He's alive, and he's coming back to Canaida."

His brother shot to his feet. "Oh, is he? That's good, I'd love to meet him. _And then chop him into little tiny bits!_"

"That's exactly why I'm telling you," Jan said, hurriedly. "You are _not _going to hurt him."

"Fine, I'll be nice. One quick swipe, and—"

"_Erril!_" Jan brought his heel down on the floor with a _thump. _"You were talking about chivalry five minutes ago, or have you totally forgotten? You're not going to do anything to Maldict beyond yell at him!" Kaven began to protest, but Jan held up a gloved hand and said over him, "He may be a scumbag, but he's one of our men, and if you were to kill or harm anyone on our own side, what do you think the faction would say to that? Or Captain Rathbone, or Captain Demarco? Erril, do you think I like him any better than you? But he's a neo-imperial, we need everyone, and if you ignore everything I just said and give in to the dark side _again, _you might as well just hang up your knight's cloak and rejoin the Empire proper."

Kaven's mouth opened, but for a long time he didn't reply. For one moment he looked angry and ready to toss the fire back in Jan's face, but then he relented, broke down, and said quietly, "This is why I need a code to live by." Then he gave his little brother an irritated look. "I won't hurt Maldict, and I won't kill him, either. But don't think I'll be forgiving him anytime soon, either. You're my _brother._"

"And you're mine," Jan replied. He went to him and hugged him. "So we have to look out for each other," he said, parting from him. "That includes keeping each other away from the dark side, right?"

Kaven shook his head. "Little brother," he said. "I think you were made to be a Jedi."

* * *

It was a warmish day on Canaida, and Demarco went walking along the winding paths outside with Captain Rathbone and Kaven. The pilot was getting back to normal, to Demarco's relief, and he was boiling with ideas. The ones about chivalry sounded particularly antiquated coming from the pilot, but if it kept him on the straight and narrow, the young captain would be pleased to have an imperial knights' code. Besides, talk of knightly virtues from Erril was rather charming, and Captain Rathbone's sidelong looks at Demarco seemed to indicate that he liked the idea quite well. "Just don't dub anyone with a lightsaber," Demarco said, with a smile. Kaven grinned.

Then Demarco grunted as something wet and cold hit him in the back of the head with a hard _plap._ When he reached up, he felt snow caked in his hair. Kaven began to turn.

"A snowball?" Captain Rathbone wondered aloud...and promptly got an earful of snow for his trouble. "Agh!"

"Oh crap, you hit the captain," someone said from a distance off, and they all looked to see a quartet of off-duty Stormtroopers standing on the side of a nearby hill with snowballs in their hands, ready to assail each other.

"I did not," said a trooper. "Somebody else must have."

Two figures in black greatcoats emerged from behind a snowdrift just beyond the troopers. "Good shot, Gammell," said Soren Fenn, head of intelligence. He was wearing his sunglasses, a striped silver-and-green scarf, and a huge piratical grin.

"Same to you, Snake-Eyes," said Gammell, smirking. For once he had some colour in his cheeks, and his breath fogged in the cool air.

Captain Rathbone finished clearing the snow from his ear. "Which one of you got me?" he called up. Gammell pointed at Snake-Eyes.

Recognizing his cue, Demarco handed the snowball he had been making to the captain, who pitched it at the head of intelligence with a trajectory and force not unlike that of a cannon. There was an explosion of snow, Gammell jumped in surprise, and Fenn went down with a muffled yell.

"Wow!" said Kaven. He tossed a snowball to Demarco. "Therefore, Gammell got _you_. Fire away."

Demarco whipped the snowball at Gammell. The lieutenant half-turned, and there was a _plap _and a white explosion against his shoulder.

War broke out after that.

As the officers pelted each other with snowballs, the Stormtroopers went into a huddle. "Can you throw snowballs at officers, or is it classified as assault on a superior?" one inquired.

"Well, if hostilities were to extend to _us_—" one began, and jumped when he took a stray snowball straight to the buttock. Then all four of the troopers turned and joined the fray, and it quickly turned into officers versus troopers, though loyalty on the officers' side broke down some when Demarco and Kaven began pelting Captain Rathbone, who was _laughing _for the first time in human memory. With his black hair full of snow and his sunglasses askew, Snake-Eyes turned on Gammell at the same time as Gammell turned on him, but the alliance was repaired as soon as the Stormtroopers, sensing weakness, went after them.

The crazed melee continued for a few minutes, until Snake-Eyes noticed a pair of redheaded figures coming around the side of the building, quite independently of each other but still close together. Major Rose and Lieutenant Ramsey, both with their hats off. "Oh look, it's Team Ginger," he said, moulding a snowball. "Such red hair. But you know what else is red?"

Gammell held one in each hand. "What else?" he asked, knowing what was coming.

"Bulls' eyes," said the head of intelligence, and threw the snowball.

It was a beautiful shot. It hit Major Rose square in the back of the head, and the officer stumbled in surprise. Then he whipped around and fired a look at Snake-Eyes that had been known to melt lesser men, and Ramsey dropped to his knees to duck a snowball from Kaven, only to be hit and knocked over by Gammell's shots. Then Team Ginger well and truly entered the fray, and at some point in the conflict one of the Stormtroopers shifted allegiances, whipping off his helmet to reveal a thatch of wild red hair, showing his true colours at last. More alliances cropped up, broke down, and reformed, sometimes over a span of thirty seconds or less. It was very much like modern politics, but with less bloodshed and more icy water dripping down the collar.

Then Kaven spotted Captain Bryn Shar walking down the path Ramsey and Rose had taken, her hands behind her back and her uniform perfect and tidy. "Oh, this is too perfect," he said, balling up another wad of snow. He lifted it, cocking his arm back, aiming for her cap.

Then Demarco hit him in the back of the head with his own snowball, purposely throwing off his aim, and the ball of snow exploded at Shar's feet. She stopped dead, looking down, then looked up and saw the miniature war zone. She had just enough time to widen her eyes before Kaven threw another one, this time hitting her on the thigh. "_Erril!_" she shouted. It sounded like a war cry, and at that she sprinted for him.

"Help!" Kaven cried, but no one came to his defence. Captain Rathbone was busy dodging shots from the redheads, and Demarco had joined Intelligence for the purpose of fighting off the Stormtroopers. Shar barrelled into the knight, knocking him down, and a few seconds later he was being thoroughly face-washed. He managed to roll over onto his back, still with the pilot on top of him, and threw handfuls of snow into her face until the air was full of sparkling snowflakes and neither of them could see.

From that point on the fight only got bigger; it was a nice day and quite a few off-duty personnel wandered by, only to be attacked. Those who were drawn in were Jan, Madeen, Verdan, Kid, and Barrie, among others. Some others were attacked, but ran away ducking snowballs as they went, never to return. Some even looked affronted at the thought of a snowball fight on an imperial base. In any case, the fight continued until it simply petered out, leaving them all lying or sitting in the snow, panting and spent.

"I feel better," Kaven said. Bryn Shar lay next to him, and both looked like abominable snowmen.

Demarco lay on his stomach in the snow, his cheek resting on a hard-packed patch of snow. "I think I needed that," he murmured. For its duration he had ceased to be the second-in-command of a rogue faction and had reverted to just being an ordinary twenty-five-year-old. At his side Captain Rathbone didn't say anything, but sat up and brushed clumps of snow out of his hair, sweeping it back from his face with a satisfied look.

"You know what?" Snake-Eyes asked, from where he was lying in a snowdrift. "Right now the rebels are probably wondering what those dastardly neo-imperials are up to."

"What new evils we're plotting," Barrie added. She was hunting for her hair clip. Ramsey shifted, found it under one leg, and tossed it to her.

"We're pretty evil, all right," Jan agreed, looking at a snowman someone had built in the distance. "I don't know how we live with ourselves."

The head of intelligence got up, brushing snow from his coat and straightening his sunglasses. "I want hot chocolate. Who's with me?" He turned to Captain Rathbone, who was slapping snow off of his hat.

"Don't look at _me_," said the captain. "I can't abide sweets."

Fenn took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Too bad I have some sweet news, chief," he said. "Lieutenant Aeron is alive, and so is Commander Dias. Lieutenant Fay is bringing him back. Both parties would like to know a rendezvous point and time."

Captain Rathbone smiled as he replaced his cap. "That I can stomach," he replied. "We'll pick them up on Misketalia the night of the party." Then he turned to Lieutenant Quinn Darling, one of the young officers that had been drawn into the conflict. "Did you finish running that check I asked for, Darling? ..._Lieutenant _Darling?"

The officer nodded. He was as much of a skirt-chaser as the next man, provided the next man was Erril Kaven, but due to his unfortunate last name being compounded by the military habit of calling everyone by their surnames, he was mistaken for gay more often than he would like by the uninformed. "Yes, sir," he said. "There are two Fells that we picked up from Shanast and sent to the garrison on Kantos. They _are _the parents."

"Have Lieutenant Fell informed, and allow the family a meeting." Darling nodded, and started down the snowy hill when no further orders were forthcoming.

Demarco went to the brothers Kaven, amused at how much snow Bryn Shar had managed to cake over the elder. Not that _she _looked any better, mind. "You two should come with me," he told them. "There's a hot spring nearby..." He hesitated.

"Sounds great," Kaven said. Melted snow dripped off his chin, and his hair fell in dark curls on his forehead, still with clumps of snow caught in it. A drop fell from his bangs, tracing its way down one sculpted cheekbone.

"You want me, too?" Jan asked, then blinked. "Me there, I mean."

Demarco's snow-reddened cheeks darkened further as he remembered his conversation with Jan in the meditation room. _Don't tell your brother, _he thought, looking at the younger knight. _I like being friends with him. _"I would like to talk to the both of you," he said. "There are some things you ought to know."

The two looked at each other, then back at him and nodded. "Mind if I get a fresh uniform first?" asked Kaven. "I try not to run naked in the snow when I can help it."

Demarco snorted at that, and they went inside. They hadn't gotten far before Jan missed a step, his green eyes widening. The captain followed his gaze to see that Maldict had returned, and that he was walking down the hall in their direction.

Maldict's dark eyes settled first on Jan, then moved to Kaven and obviously saw the resemblance between them. He came to a stop, his lips beginning to form the words _Oh, f—_

"Uh, Erril," said Jan nervously, as his brother looked at Maldict with polite puzzlement and a faint smile on his lips. "This is..."

_This is the first test, _Demarco thought, and said, "Commander Maldict." He tensed, ready to bring the knight down with a flying tackle if he needed to.

Kaven's smile froze. "So you're Maldict," he said, slowly, and moved closer. Demarco couldn't help but think that he was getting within stabbing range. "That bloody rapist."

Maldict looked irritated. "I didn't—"

"—succeed," the knight finished. His eyes were green ice.

"I never tried to," Maldict said, gruffly. "Nothing happened between me and your brother."

"Well, it wasn't for lack of trying, was it?" Kaven asked. At his side Jan was looking between them with wide eyes, the tension visible in his body. He could read emotions through the Force; heaven only knew what he was picking up between the two men right now. "Are you planning a second try at it?"

"No."

"Erril," Jan said, a little breathlessly. "Remember..."

Kaven had been leaning closer to Maldict, but at that he straightened. "I remember," he said. "He's one of ours. And I'm not Darth Vader."

_No, _thought Demarco, _you're not. You're not. Now prove it. _He didn't say anything, and moved neither to help Maldict nor hinder him, nor did he move to defend or reprimand Kaven. The knight's true nature had to show itself on its own.

"I'm _so _grateful," Maldict said, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone. He was playing with fire, taking his life into his hands.

"I've been assured that nothing happened," Kaven said to him, with cold courtesy. "But I want you to stay away from my brother from now on, and if I hear about anything else like this, I _will_—" Demarco held his breath, "—report your conduct to Captain Rathbone and see to it that you answer for it." He reached out and put a hand on Jan's shoulder, dropping his gaze. "Come on, Jan. Captain. We have a meeting to attend."

They had only just gotten around the corner when Kaven let out a shaky breath and said, "You have no idea how hard that was for me."

"Erril, I'm...so glad," his younger brother said. He looked drained, in the aftershock of tension.

Kaven looked at Demarco, his face wan. "Does it get easier with time?" he asked.

The captain thought a moment, then decided to answer in all honesty. "No," he admitted. "It doesn't." Duty always was a harsh mistress.

The knight was silent a while as they walked. "Then," he said eventually, "I'll just have to weather it."

* * *

Commander Marwyn was enjoying the coolness of the laboratory's antechamber when the door slid open and Doctor Alyssa Hyde came in with a faint smile on her face. "Well?" he asked. "Interesting, isn't it?"

"Oh, very," the scientist said. She was only a couple of months older than Marwyn himself, but already her black hair was shot through with grey at the temples. Premature greying never bothered Mobians, though, and she was a child of Johanneston, the same as him. "The first rebel injected took seven hours to turn, the second only five hours, and the third twelve." She took a seat next to him. "I was puzzled by the incongruity for a while, as the subjects were all of the same age, species, and general health. And then I took the blood samples to test for midi-chlorians."

Marwyn was intrigued. "And?"

She smiled at him. "Adrian, I do believe you've discovered an anti-Jedi weapon."

He smiled back, his mind already working. "We ought to present our findings to Director Lestrade. After a test run, say."

Hyde had always been quick to take his meaning. "It might be difficult to get to Yavin IV," she said, "but the rebels have been creeping into our territory these days, setting up bases like little anthills. Do you think there might be such a place near Leto...an anthill that needs to be stomped?"

He studied her. She was still smiling a little, her fingers folded beneath her chin and her eyes glittering like sapphires. Yes, he thought, she'd always been quick. It was one of his favourite things about her. "You've been talking to someone," he said. Not even Commander Stavan knew that a rebel garrison had sprung up on Tir Nazel, only one good hyperspace trip from Leto. The Empire had only discovered that recently, and he supposed he ought to take the news back to Stavan. "You should have joined the ISB, Alyssa."

"But that would take away the fun of buggering about in my laboratory all day," the scientist said with a mock frown, reaching into her white coat and pulling out a datapad. She fiddled with it for a minute, then put it in front of him. "Have a look."

He did. On the datapad were photos taken by a probe droid, of a rebel base that was three quarters of the way finished. As he looked at it he noticed the terrain, noticed the thick, hard-looking trees and impenetrable forest quite a distance from the base but in a rough circle around it, and then he noticed a second circle closer to the base; a dry-moat of sorts, deep enough to discourage AT-STs and AT-ATs and other basic vehicles, should they manage to get through that adamantine forest. It would be a bugger to attack from the land, and he imagined there would be shields against bombardment. He glanced at Hyde, raising an eyebrow.

"The commander's second took the liberty of giving those to me to figure out a method of taking that base out," Hyde explained, "but when the commander found out, he cancelled it. He wants to fight the rebels in a sporting fashion."

"Bloody idiot," said Marwyn. "He'll kill half his men taking that base in his _sporting _fashion. He's too afraid of getting his hands dirty." Commander Octavian's methods were scrupulous, and to him war was a gentleman's game. But the fact of the matter was that there was nothing less gentlemanly than war. Methods be damned, it was the _results _that mattered.

"Exactly," said Hyde. "You see that moat?" Marwyn nodded. "I imagine the wraiths will have no problem with it. And it might make a useful barrier afterward...a ring of fire, keeping them inside."

"We can't have them escaping, after all." Yes, this would make a good test run for the wraiths, he decided. Some men with flamethrowers could take care of the wraiths after _they _had taken care of the rebels. "Octavian needn't worry. _I'll _take over this assignment and put my own men to it. Alyssa, do you think an antidote to the wraiths' poison could be developed?"

She thought. "I had heard that Doctors Lesard and Rosa had been in charge of developing one...but they're both dead now, and their notes were lost. It would take time, maybe even years, but...yes, I suppose I could find a way to make an antidote."

"Good. Do that." Marwyn knew how dangerous this new weapon was, how quickly and easily it could backfire on him if he put a foot wrong. "And then _we'll _be the only ones with the antidote."


End file.
